Making Friends with Monsters

Remus

"My mum is going to kill me."

My stomach was roiling as I followed my three friends across the grounds to Hagrid's hut. The afternoon rainclouds hung low and hazy, permitting a few rays of light to leak out at the horizon. The sunbeams kissed the tree line of the Forbidden Forest – tonight's destination.

Sirius turned and walked backwards to face me, with his hands in his pockets and an easygoing smile on his face. The autumn breeze toyed with his shaggy black hair. "Relax, mate. It's only one detention. I had five last year, and I'm still alive."

"Remus and I barely did anything," Peter complained. He looked like a grumpy cherub, with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and the childish pout on his face.

"You were laughing. That's something," James teased from the front of our group. His spiky hair was even untidier than usual from the moisture in the air.

"It's only the first week," I lamented.

"Of our second year. Sirius and I got detention in our actual first week."

Sirius's eyes lit up. "That's right! We should make a tradition out of it! What do you say, boys?"

James grinned. "I'm game."

Peter pursed his lips, and I replied dryly, "Next year, kindly count me out."

"Aw, come on, Moony. Don't you ever let loose a little?" Sirius teased.

Only once a month, I almost said. I bit my tongue…and then felt disappointed in myself. My friends had found out that I was a werewolf three days ago. I knew that they'd accepted me – that silly and endearing nickname, Moony, served as a constant reminder. But I still struggled to vocalize the topic that I'd been forced to hide all my life, even for something as lighthearted as a joke. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

"We all know they're going to pick you for prefect in fifth year," James needled me. "A few detentions along the way won't hurt. Why not have fun while you still can?"

"If your idea of fun is helping Hagrid clean the stables, I'll stick to doing something boring."

"Like reading?" Sirius quipped, making a sour face. "I think it'd rather shovel Hippogriff dung."

I rolled my eyes, and James chuckled. Peter stared at Sirius in alarm. "Hagrid has Hippogriffs?"

"I dunno. What else would the stables be for?"

"Thestrals."

We were huddled just beyond the border of the Forest, shivering in the cool mist now falling from the sky. In front of us was a long wooden stable, which appeared to be empty. Hagrid, the half-giant caretaker, beamed at us through his grizzly beard. "Beautiful creatures," he went on proudly as he walked up to the nearest stall. "A bit shy though, and they like teh take a nap this time of day. Hang on."

Hagrid whistled. Some rustling and stomping ensued as a dozen large skeletal heads poked out of the stalls to look at us. I wouldn't have described the Thestrals as beautiful. The undead horses had hooked snouts and spiked heads. The white orbs in their bony eye sockets were melancholic, despite their lack of pupils. Every few seconds, one would flick its whip-like tail or stretch its leathery wings.

"They pulled the carriages up to the castle this year," I realized.

My friends seemed confused. "Those carriages move on their own," James said, narrowing his eyes like he suspected I was playing a prank on him.

I blinked at him. "You didn't see them? Did any of you…?" The three of them stared back at me blankly. I had trouble believing that they would all forget our recent carriage ride led by zombie-horses.

"Ahh," Hagrid said curiously. "I was wonderin' if any of yeh would be able teh see 'em. They're invisible teh mos' people."

James's eyes went wide. "Invisible horses? So, if you used an invisibility cloak while you rode one…"

Hagrid chortled. "It migh' be hard teh keep a cloak on while you're flyin'."

James's jaw dropped. "They have wings?" I had a feeling that a Thestral might end up on his Christmas list this year.

Sirius was squinting at the stalls, like the Thestrals might appear if he concentrated hard enough. "Can you make them do something?" Hagrid patted the nearest Thestral's neck. It chuffed quietly and pushed its scaly head against his chest. Sirius shook his head slowly. "That looks so weird."

"You can hear them, right?" I checked, and he nodded.

"What do they look like?" James demanded.

My description seemed to excite James and Sirius, but Peter seemed disturbed. "They're skeletons…?"

"Not quite. They have skin. They look like…a horse-dragon hybrid that died, decomposed a bit, and then came back to life."

"Nice!" Sirius enthused.

Peter shuddered. "I'm glad I can't see them."

"I wish I could," James moaned.

Hagrid's smile melted away. "I wouldn' say tha'. Yeh have teh have seen death teh see 'em."

"Seen death?" Peter echoed in a high-pitched voice. My three friends turned their wide eyes to me.

For a second, I felt just as surprised as they were. Then the memory jabbed me in the gut. "Oh. My grandfather died from Dragonpox. My family was visiting him in the hospital when it happened." The other boys continued to stare. A little embarrassed, I mustered a smile. "I'm fine. It happened almost five years ago now, and we weren't that close."

"What about you, Hagrid?" James asked curiously. The groundskeeper grimaced, and James mirrored his discomfort. "Er, sorry."

"S'alright," Hagrid said quickly. "My dad passed away when I was twelve – about yer age, come teh think of it." Hagrid's beetle eyes became distant for a moment. Then his smile returned, if only slightly forced. "Let's get teh the fun part. Yer Remus, righ'? You'll go first, since yeh can see 'em."

Hagrid beckoned me closer to the stalls. In his free hand, he hefted a bucket so large that I could've used it as a bathtub – so it looked appropriately sized, in his hands. As I approached him, a strong metallic smell made me wrinkle my nose. Without flinching, Hagrid grabbed a slab of raw meat from the bucket and held it out to me. When I hesitated, he raised his bushy eyebrows. "Yeh don' want teh feed 'em?"

"I thought we were only cleaning," Peter squeaked. He didn't seem thrilled to feed carnivorous dragon-horses either.

"I already cleaned up after 'em yesterday, so the four of yeh got off easy." Hagrid tossed the steak to the nearest Thestral, which snapped it out of the air. Then he handed another slimy morsel to me. "Go on, then. We'll let 'em out after they're all fed."

Peter was trembling in his muddy school shoes. "W-why do we have to f-feed them f-first?"

"So they don't take a nibble out of us instead," Sirius murmured in his ear. He and James sniggered as Peter pouted and pushed him away.

"Nah, they don' eat people. They jus' haven' learned how teh share with each other," Hagrid answered calmly. He smiled as a second Thestral gulped down the meal I'd lobbed at it – a sight that probably looked very bizarre to my friends. "Tha's it. Come on, the rest of yeh can help. Just toss a piece at each stall. Yeh don' need teh be able teh see 'em."

After the Thestrals had their fill, Hagrid instructed us to step back. One at a time, he opened each stall door, and I watched as the skeletal creatures took off, some on foot and some in the air. One cheeky Thestral decided to fly right over me, so close that it could've used my head as a springboard. I stumbled back, startled. James snorted, and Sirius teased, "Alright, Moony? Did the air almost get you?"

I shot my friends a dry look. Then I gasped and pointed at the empty space behind them. Peter yelped and covered his head, and Sirius and James lurched in opposite directions. I grinned a little guiltily as they paused to listen. Their faces morphed into identical affronted looks, and they turned to me. "It just missed you," I told them through a snicker.

"Git," Sirius grumbled, fighting a smile.

Then a very real Thestral came trotting up to me. It was clearly the largest of the group; my head barely reached its chest. "Ah, tha's Tenebrus," Hagrid said fondly. "He always checks out the visitors. Has teh protect his herd. He's the father of half of 'em."

The other Thestrals had disappeared into the forest, but Tenebrus lingered, craning his thick neck toward me. His razor-sharp beak was only a few inches from my face – and I'd just watched that same beak tear through a bloody steak. I swallowed. "Hagrid? Is he, er…is this safe?"

"He won't hurt yeh," Hagrid assured. "'Specially not now tha' he's eaten."

"Oh. Lovely."

My faint sarcasm was lost on Hagrid. He patted Tenebrus affectionately, and the Thestral directed its spiked mouth to him instead. "Thestrals get a bad rap," he explained. "Not many people can see 'em fer wha' they really are – and most of the people tha' can are scared of 'em. It's a ruddy shame. They're called all sorts of nasty things – dangerous, soulless, omens of death, living nightmares – all bullocks. They're peaceful creatures, truly, but it's rare teh find someone who'll give 'em a chance."

Something inside me twisted as the Thestral turned and stared at me with his milky white eyes. Tenebrus suddenly didn't seem so creepy. In fact, he looked so sad and somber that I felt indignant on his behalf. "People can be harsh sometimes, can't they?" I murmured without thinking. I reached out, and the creature made a soft rumbling noise and pushed his muzzle into my hand. His scaly skin was cold and rough, but his breath was warm.

Hagrid glowed with pride. "Tha's it!"

James and Sirius came over to pet the Thestral as well – and we even convinced Peter to try it. "Wicked," Sirius muttered, staring at his hand like he was trying to memorize the feel of the invisible creature's skin.

"Can we ride him?" James asked, and Sirius gazed at Hagrid hopefully.

Hagrid chuckled. "I reckon he'd let yeh."

Before I could begin to worry about that, a chilling howl made goosebumps spring up on my arms. Tenebrus lifted his head and looked off into the forest. Hagrid's expression went somber. "Stay back, now, he might—" We all stepped away hastily as the skeletal creature spread his bat-like wings and leaped into the air. Tenebrus flew off after the rest of the herd without looking back. "Ah, well. Like I said, he's mighty protective. He'll wan' teh look after the others."

"What was that howl?" Sirius asked intently.

Any confidence Peter had gained from touching the Thestral seemed to have vanished. "It couldn't have been a werewolf, could it?" He wondered timidly, glancing at me for an answer, even though he knew that the full moon had set several days ago.

"I've heard rumors of a pack of werewolves living in the Forbidden Forest," James mentioned, frowning uncertainly. "I always thought that was rubbish, though."

Hagrid scratched his beard and looked away. "It's not rubbish, exactly. That was no normal wolf." When he noticed our intrigued faces, he sighed. "It's supposed teh be a secret, but I suppose there's no harm in tellin' yeh – jus' as long as yeh remember the Forest isn't safe fer students. Promise me yeh won' ever go in there without me or a teacher with yeh, alrigh'?" We nodded and murmured our agreement – but I would've bet all my savings that James and Sirius were crossing their fingers behind their backs.

"How much do yeh know about werewolves?"

I almost laughed. Of all the people he could've asked. Subtly, I scanned over my friends' expressions. I was impressed at how neutral they looked. Even Peter was managing an innocent air, though he wouldn't meet Hagrid's eyes. "Not much," James lied coolly.

"Well, see, a werewolf isn' like a normal wolf. Wolves wouldn' usually go outta their way teh hurt yeh. Werewolves – transformed ones, I mean – have a nasty temper. Vicious creatures, they are."

My skin suddenly felt clammy. I couldn't help but wonder if this bluntly accurate explanation was making my friends regret keeping me around. I stole a glance at them. To my relief, the three of them looked just as stubborn as they had a few days ago, when they'd blocked our bedroom door and begged me not to leave. "They can't control that, though," Sirius pointed out defensively, and James nodded.

"'Course not," Hagrid agreed. "They could be differen' any other time. Met a few werewolves myself. They're just like me an' you, fer the mos' part, 'cept fer on full moons."

That seemed to placate my friends. Once again, I was amazed by their open-mindedness – and thankful that Hagrid shared their sentiment.

The groundskeeper scratched his beard again. "Anyway, on a full moon, werewolves are mighty aggressive, compared teh a normal wolf. Most times, werewolves'll spend the whole night lookin' fer somethin' teh bite – animals, people, other werewolves – whatever they can find. But sometimes, when two transformed werewolves meet, instead of attackin' each other, they, er…" Hagrid stopped abruptly, blinking at us like he was just now seeing us. The ruddy color of his face deepened. "Merlin, yer too young fer this! I shouldn' have said anythin'. Forget I said tha'."

"What? You can't leave us hanging!" James protested.

"Yeah! What happens when they meet?" Peter pried.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sirius's eyebrows crawling up his forehead. He met my eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line. I looked away, trying to ignore the burning in my face. I could feel James's inquisitive eyes combing over us. Before he could read into our expressions, Hagrid cleared his throat loudly.

"Doesn' matter. The point is, there's a creature tha's something between a wolf and a werewolf. They look like werewolves – shorter snouts and tails than regular wolves – but they don' transform, and they're the smartest animals yeh'd ever meet. The pack of 'em tha' lives here is the only known pack in the world. They've been more active in the past year, fer some reason. They used teh only howl on the full moon. I've been meaning teh check up on 'em, see wha's botherin' 'em…"

"We could help you," James volunteered eagerly, "since we've just finished with the Thestrals."

Sirius elbowed him. The laughter had left his eyes. "Bad idea, mate. Pete's scared of wolves, remember?" He quirked an eyebrow at Peter, who nodded vigorously, eyes wide and solemn.

James found my eyes and grimaced. "Oh. Good point. Never mind."

Clearly, it wasn't Peter they were worried about.

I appreciated their consideration, although it wasn't needed. In general, wolves didn't bother me much. There was no sense in being afraid of an animal that was docile and preferred to be left alone. As for werewolves, I didn't love the idea of running into a transformed one, but logically there wasn't much for me to be afraid of in that case either. I was already infected; there wasn't much else a werewolf could do to me.

I figured my friends thought that being bitten had inflicted a phobia on me – but I'd only been four years old, so I didn't remember many details from that horrible night. The only clear image I could recall was a pair of yellow eyes gleaming at me from a shadowy corner of my bedroom. Everything after that was either blurred by pain and fear, or locked up and cemented into the furthest corner of my traumatized mind. The subject of wolves only made me feel anxious about the next full moon...or about my friends inevitably deciding not to bother with me.

A shadow of a smile crossed my face. There's not much to be scared of when you're already your own nightmare.

"I'll visit the pack by myself another time," Hagrid told us firmly. "They can be wary of strangers, and I can' have any of yeh gettin' hurt." He crossed his burly arms and raised an eyebrow. "And this is supposed teh be a detention, yeh know, not an adventure into the Forest."

James wiped the smile off his face and raised his hands in mock-surrender. "Right, of course. Have you got any other cool creatures that need feeding?"

A few hours later, Hagrid was escorting us back to the castle, lantern in hand. The stars and moon were obscured by rainclouds, and Hagrid's massive pink umbrella did nothing to stop the bitter wind from slicing through my cloak. Peter shivered underneath an oversized blanket that Hagrid had lent him.

When we finally reached the castle, a bit frozen but still functioning, Hagrid gave us another approving smile. "I appreciate all yer help tonight. Whatever yeh did teh get sent teh me, I wouldn' mind if yeh did it a few more times." He winced. "Er, don' tell yer teachers I said tha'."

"I'm sure we'll be stopping by again soon," James assured mischievously. Hagrid chuckled, and I gave my friends a wary look.

As we trekked up the stairs to the common room, James and Sirius were strategizing their next voyage to the Forest – which I doubted included Hagrid's supervision. "We could have a campfire," Sirius suggested.

"We could even spend the night, if we can find some tents," James added, wearing his scheming frown.

Peter looked alarmed. "Why would you want to do that?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Have you never wanted to go camping?"

"Not in a place full of monsters, and snakes, and giant spiders, and—"

"Werewolves?" James chimed in wryly.

Sirius wiggled his fingers at Peter. "Ooh, how scary!"

"I'm not scared of wolves," Peter grumbled.

Then, all at once, the three of them glanced at me conspiratorially, like they were wondering if they'd crossed a line. I pondered that…and then I made up my mind: I didn't want there to be a line.

"Oh, I am," I said, smirking. "I scream every time I look in a mirror."

My friends gaped at me, shocked. Then Sirius let out a bark of laughter, and I grinned as the others joined in. At that moment, I vowed not to end up like a Thestral. Last year, I would've given anything to hide myself from other people, but those days of secrecy, shame, and guilt were in the past. Whether my friends would stay with me for good or leave once they'd had a closer look, I wanted them to see me for what I was – however scary that may be.

Ironically, I was beginning to believe they would stay for good.