"And the Ministry wizard?" came a chilling voice.
Fear crept into the man's answer. "Th-things went awry, master. Someone was coming; I had to leave him in the castle."
"You disappoint me, Paul," said Lord Voldemort softly. "There were to be no witnesses."
"Forgive me, my Lord." There was a silence that spoke volumes. "But-but master, I doubt the boy will talk if caught. He has the reputation of the Ministry to think of, not to mention his own."
"The reputation of half the Ministry," said the amused Dark Lord. "You have done well--but not well enough. Percy Weasley is a loose end."
A haze lifted from Harry's mind as he realized what was happening. He was lying at the feet of Voldemort. Anger and fear welled up within him, but the near-hysteria surging beneath Ranone's controlled voice stayed him. "If your Lordship would allow me the honor of returning to Hogwarts and completing--"
"No." Icy, thin fingers traced their way down Harry's face. Vicious bile rose into his mouth and, unable to restrain himself, he scrambled to his feet with a cry of disgust, only to feel his knees buckle beneath an onslaught of dizziness. His arms were twisted painfully behind his back. Harry looked up into Voldemort's face and saw the same red slits, the flat snake's nose, the cruel mouth. A huge, diamond-patterned serpent lay coiled in the Dark Lord's lap. It raised its head and hissed, causing Harry started backwards. As he looked wildly around he saw that two cloaked, hooded figures had stepped forward from the shadows on either side of the cave. Voldemort raised a hand from the arm of his throne-like chair to stay them.
"Take him to where the werewolf the being held. The speed with which our plan succeeds will determine how you will be reprimanded." he said softly, his eyes never leaving Harry's. Harry ground his teeth and began to struggle against Ranone's hands, which were shaking in relief. "You will find an extra cage. Make sure it is easily...accessible. Hold!" The two Death Eaters on either side froze, wands half drawn. "There is no need to stun him." Voldemort's lips twisted in some parody of an amused smile. "Allow him to make all the noise he wishes." He leaned forward, his voice dropping so that only Harry and Ranone could hear. "It will be good practice for later on, Harry Potter."
There was a quiet choking noise from behind Voldemort's high seat. Glancing up sharply Harry saw for the first time the pale face of Peter Pettigrew lurking by the Dark Lord's shoulder. Sweat glistened on his brow as he stared at Harry. Voldemort languidly raised one eyebrow. "Do you have something to say, Peter?"
"No, my Lord." Wormtail swallowed, tearing his eyes away from James Potter's son.
"Ah, but I think you do." Voldemort's red eyes gleamed cruelly as he continued to stare straight ahead, not looking at his servant. The snake's coils glistened in the flickering torchlight as it wound its way up its master's arm. Voldemort reached out one hand to stroke it. "Perhaps I have not given you enough to do. You must be horribly bored. My apologies." The wizard who had once been Tom Riddle hissed sarcastically, a chilling kind of chuckle. Pettigrew looked too terrified to even protest. "Very well. You will accompany Paul to the back caves to ensure that our...guest...makes a satisfactory amount of noise."
"Y-yes, my Lord. As you c-command." Wormtail stepped forward, steadfastly avoiding Harry's eyes. Ranone moved aside to grab Harry's left arm while Pettigrew took his right. Harry recoiled from his father's betrayer, feeling the cold silver of Wormtail's false hand seep through his robes.
"Don't touch me!" he spat, kicking and twisting with all his might. The business end of Ranone's wand dug into his back before tapping against his wrists. A moment later Harry felt ropes explode from the tip and bind his arms tightly together.
"Do be polite, Harry," said Voldemort insinuatingly. "You might as well make things as pleasant as you can." At the nod of their master's head Wormtail and Ranone began dragging Harry off. He resisted every inch of the way as they forced him through countless twisting and turning tunnels, waving away false dead ends with their wands, winding steadily downwards. As they descended the air became even colder until Harry's teeth were chattering. Soon a wind began whistling through the caves, carrying with its icy bite horrific sounds: the snarls and howls of some wild animal. Harry's struggles weakened as he realized who those sounds must belong to.
At last they emerged into a vast cavern, lit only by torches set in the walls, but Harry was still blinded after the near pitch-black corridors they had left behind. Ranone put out his wand and pushed him roughly forward. Harry stumbled and fell to his knees. The rough stone tore through the fabric of his pants and drew blood. Accompanying the stinging pain was a strange pang of deja vu, but before he could grasp at it he looked up and saw the werewolf in its cage.
It was a massive beast, rippling with muscle, its eyes devoid of all reason as it slathered and bit at itself, spilling blood, re-opening old scars. The inside of the cage was stained crimson.
"No," whispered Harry in horror. "Oh, God, Lupin. No."
The thing that was Remus Lupin tossed back its head and let out a blood-freezing howl. The Death Eaters that surrounded the cage flinched. Harry could hear Wormtail breathing hard as he pulled him to his feet and away. Harry offered no resistance, transfixed by the monstrosity that his former professor had become. Pettigrew led him to an alcove on the other side of the vast cave. The sub-cavern opened up to the outside, explaining where the freezing air came from, and before the exit stood a large cage, of similar make to the one that held Lupin.
"Bastard!" hissed Harry, finding his tongue and beginning to struggle again, but too late. He was thrust into the cage and the door slammed shut behind him. Harry lunged forward, clutching at the bars of his prison. Pettigrew flinched backwards from where he was casting several charms on the lock. "Look at him!" Wormtail refused to meet his gaze, arms hanging loosely at his side as he stared emptily at the cave floor. "He would have died for you! My father would have died for you, you piece of filth!" Harry's helpless rage rose along with his voice to a shout. "I SHOULD HAVE LET THEM KILL YOU! I should have let them rip you to shreds...look at me, God damn it!"
Pettigrew hunched his shoulders and turned to walk away.
"Murderer!" yelled Harry after him, slamming his fist against the cage. "Traitor!"
Wormtail kept walking and disappeared into the main cavern. It was bitterly cold but Harry hardly felt it as he continued to stare at the small sliver of the larger cave he could see: Lupin in his cage. As the werewolf nearly ripped open its side bile rose in Harry's throat and tears welled in his eyes. He turned away and hugged his knees to his chest, flinching with every inhuman shriek that came from Lupin.
The hissing wind found its way under his thin robes as he stared out into the night. He saw that they were surrounded by mountains under a black night sky. The slope of the one this cave was in fell rather steeply away from him, blanketed in snow. Groves of evergreens and hardy bushes were scattered as far as the eye could see.
If I could get out of this cage, I could escape without much trouble, thought Harry, eyeing the outside world. He wondered why they put him so close to freedom, and then realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach. I'm bait. This is a trap for Sirius and the others. Oh, God, they must have seen him and the others creeping around. The smell of the situation became fouler as Lupin snarled in the back again. Knowing his godfather, hearing his best friend make such noises would have brought him charging in long ago. The Death Eater must have soundproofed the caves, and hidden them from Muggle eyes as well.
Harry shrank back into the farthest corner of the cage, determined to keep silent. Sirius would not know he was here.
Time passed without notice. It might have been a minute or an hour Harry sat shivering violently in the deathly cold. Above the mountains the full moon continued to rise. The fatigue that accompanies freezing slowly overcame him, pulling at his eyelids and making his limbs feel leaden.
"Envelop infaredus."
Warmth rushed suddenly through Harry's bones. He jerked back from the verge of sleep with a start, twisting around to see Peter Pettigrew tucking his wand away. Two more Death Eaters, Ranone and another, were entering the alcove, speaking in low voices. Wormtail quickly stepped away from the cage.
"Three by the moon," snapped Ranone, pulling his thick robes closer about him as he stood in the opening of the cave. "He hasn't been very cooperative bait, has he, Pettigrew?"
"I see no one," said Wormtail, walking up beside the taller man.
"No? We are dealing with the Order of the Phoenix. I would think you of all people would know that if you do not see them does not mean they are not there." Ranone turned a hard look onto Wormtail, who stared back with unusual nerve.
They're going to make me scream whether I want to or not. Fear raced through Harry as the memory of his time under the Crutacious curse came rolling back. A thousand red-hot needles piercing his skin...
He whirled in desperation to stare at the werewolf in its cage. The beast had subsided only slightly from blood loss. It continued to claw at itself madly. Its tail was almost in shreds. Harry wanted to vomit but instead focused on the lock of Lupin's cage.
It was a horrible thing to do, if he could even do it. But it seemed the only option.
"Alohamora," whispered Harry, brows knitting. His fingers clenched and unclenched, wishing desperately for his wand. "Alohamora!"
Some disagreement had broken out between Ranone and Wormtail behind him. The third Death Eater stood silently by. Harry glanced over his shoulder then looked back to Lupin. He chanted every unlocking Charm he had been taught, from the most simple to ones only seventh years (or Hermione) could manage.
"I don't have time for this!" Ranone snapped, and before anyone could stop him he raised his wand to point at Harry.
But, like most humans, he hesitated.
"Alohamora!" cried Harry under his breath, throwing every ounce of himself into it, forcing his mind to reach as far as it would stretch.
Right before pain seized Harry, before he was forced to scream until his voice was hoarse and twitch like a macabre parody of a puppet, the lock of Lupin's cage clicked.
****
The Alps of France were terribly cold in the winter and a popular tourist locale for skiing. Lord Voldemort had chosen his location well, however. The Order of the Phoenix had spent an entire exhausting day breaking through the Misdirecting and Veiling Charms laid over the cave in the slope of the mountain. Another day without sleep they had lurked in the various groves of pine trees and behind scattered boulders, watching, waiting. They dared not try to contact Albus Dumbledore: the first day of Sirius Black's return an owl had been sent on its way to Hogwarts. In the middle of their search for Voldemort's makeshift headquarters they had found the poor thing stiff on the ground by a tree, its stomach split open and completely gutted. The Dark Mark was branded into one outstretched wing.
The Order had operated under more pressure than ever after that, knowing that their presence had been discovered.
Sirius Black frowned, rolling to first one side and then the other to pull his winter robes closer about himself. They dared not use any more magic that necessary for fear of Detection Charms. Even if the Death Eaters knew that the Order was here, there was no sense in giving away their locations. The full moon was past its high point. It was after midnight, but no sound came from the cave they suspected Remus Lupin was being held in, but by all rights there should have been many a blood-freezing howl and other ungodly noises renting air by now. Another damn spell, thought Black.
He did not like the silence, nor did he like the cage that had been set into plain view several hours ago. Its prisoner had retreated as far back into the shadows as he or she possibly could, so that even using his Ominoculars on high power Sirius could not make out who was in there.
A sudden noise behind him made Sirius spin around as best he could while lying on his stomach. Through sleep-deprived eyes he scanned the trees behind him, searching for footprints in the snow, but there was no one. Perhaps it was only his exhaustion. He was debating whether or not to send a signal to the others when the shrieks and screams he had been waiting for pierced the night.
Black stiffened as his mouth went dry. Those were not the sounds of a wolf. He lifted the Ominoculars to his eyes and saw a black-haired boy writhing on the floor of the cage. Three Death Eaters were there, one standing motionless, the one holding the wand...the third was Peter Pettigrew.
"Oh God. Oh God no, no...!" Sirius resisted the urge to leap to his feet and rush up the hill. He looked about helplessly before taking out his wand to send a silent signal to the others.
"No, don't," hissed a voice as a hand closed over his. Black gasped and whirled around. "It's a trap," said Rysk.
"How-how the hell--"
"They know you're here," insisted the witch.
"I know they know we're here!" cried Sirius. "I can't leave Harry there!"
"I know, I know." Rysk looked up the slope to the source of the terrible sounds of Harry's torture. "They took him from Hogwarts a few hours ago; Ranone, Ministry wizard; we'll have to find another way."
"My God." Black stared at Rysk's fingers, which were quickly taking on a blue tint. "Did you fly?" Without thinking he folded her hands in his own.
Rysk instantly pulled back. "Yes." She tucked her hands beneath her armpits. Black saw that her winter attire was woefully inadequate, as though she had run out of Hogwarts without stopping to grab anything more than a coat and scarf. For one brief instant Harry took a second seat to the strange bond he shared with the woman.
"How did you know where we--did he tell you?" he demanded, referring to the Death Eater being held back at Hogwarts. When Rysk hesitated horrified realization crept over his face. "I thought the Truth potions wouldn't work on him," he breathed. "I thought he'd modified his own memory."
"Memory charms can be broken," said Rysk shortly, grey eyes hardening further.
"No," choked Sirius. "You didn't. You didn't! Not again!"
Rysk looked away. "We have to find another way in. Lupin'll keep; I don't know if they're torching Potter for info or if they're just making him scream--"
At that moment the horrific scene unfolding above Sirius and Rysk exploded. The thrashing body in the cage ceased its movements altogether; Black's breath caught in his throat.
"What the hell--" Rysk stiffened. "Oh...fucking...Christ."
The Death Eaters surrounding Harry's cage were scattering in a most unorganized manner. Into the dim light flickering from the small cave came the silhouette of a great wolf. A howl echoed throughout the mountains.
****
The sensation of being eaten alive from the inside out while being assaulted by every sort of pain possible stopped abruptly, leaving Harry struggling to breathe on the floor of the cage. For what seemed an eternity he lay there, limp as a rag and wishing to die. After a while he became aware of chaos and panic in the air; shouts and the sound of running feet coming from the main cavern. He struggled up onto his elbows in time to see Ranone and the other Death Eater Disapparate, their faces frozen in shock. Wormtail was no where to be seen.
Through a stream of painful tears Harry turned and saw the monstrous werewolf loping into the alcove. It stopped by Harry's cage and tried to push its bloodied snout through the close bars, snarling, glaring at Harry with mad bloodlust.
"Lupin." Harry's voice shook. "Lupin, it's me. It's me."
If the wolf understood it gave no sign. Unable to get to the boy inside the cage it stalked to where the alcove opened up to the outside world, where it was beginning to snow. Lupin through his head back and let out a frightening howl before leaping to the ground below and running off.
Harry was left to shiver, exposed to cold air once again. The catch to the Warmth charm was that one had to concentrate a bit to maintain it and while under the Crutacious curse this was impossible to do. He stared at the trail of red that the wolf had left behind on the stone until a sudden noise made him look up wearily.
Wormtail was at the lock of the cage. He murmured something over it and a click was heard. "Go," he said. A new light had come into his dead eyes. For the first time he met Harry's gaze. "Go, Harry."
Slowly, feeling as though in a dream, Harry made his way to the door and pushed it open. His weak legs somehow managed to support him and for a moment he stood, staring at Pettigrew. Then he turned and slid his way down the slope of the mountain, falling several times. The snow-laden wind whipped his hair as he looked up and saw a trail of blood staining the footprints of a wolf leading away up the mountain. Harry struggled to his feet and ran the opposite direction.
The snow was knee-deep in places. Time once again lost meaning as Harry plowed down toward a grove of evergreens, thinking only of shelter from the cruel wind. His thin robes flapped as his glasses quickly became coated with white, forcing him to wipe at his face every other second to see where he was going. At last he stumbled into the trees. Wrapping his robes as tightly as he could about himself Harry slid to the ground, his back against the thickest pine he could find, and tried to stay alive.
****
"He's out!"
"What?" shouted Rysk, looking up. The wind was quickly becoming a violent gale. She and Black were high up in the boughs of a pine tree. Rysk insisted that they climb it, pointing out that being caught on the ground with a werewolf on the loose was not a good idea. As the snowstorm grew steadily worse, however, sitting in a tree was quickly becoming just as bad.
Black glanced down. The other was horribly cold, though he knew she'd never admit it until she was near death. "Harry!" he yelled over the wind. Rysk instantly stood on her branch and began climbing up towards him.
"Where?!" Sirius pointed. Rysk followed his finger, squinting against the snow. A small figure was struggling down the mountainside, barely visible through the storm. Harry was several kilometers above them and veering sharply to the left. "How did he get out?"
"I don't know; I can't see anything."
"Shit, he's not coming over here..."
"HARRY!" screamed Black at the top of his lungs. The wind scattered his voice every which way. "HARRY!"
"Shut up!" cried Rysk, gripping his arm hard. "Send a message."
Sirius drew out his wand with numb fingers and murmured an incantation, followed by words that Rysk could not make out. Black had earlier sent a signal to abort all plans and lay low. Now the wands of the rest of the Order should be tapping out a message in code to stay on the lookout for Harry.
"We can't stay out here all night."
A determined, obsessed light was in Black's eyes. "I will if I have to."
****
As suddenly as the snow began, it stopped.
Harry tilted his head back as the air cleared. His shoulders and head were covered in white, as was every needle of the trees that surrounded him. Shivering violently he forced himself to his feet, fighting the overwhelming urge to sleep. The moon had moved again, almost an hour, or so he thought (Astronomy had never been his strongest subject).
Near three or four. The blanket of nothingness coating the Alps
had thickened by almost a foot. I should try to get down; get help,
thought Harry numbly. I'm not going to last much longer.
"Envelop infaredus," he muttered emptily for the hundredth time. Nothing happened. Harry forced himself to move as far as the edge of the grove before the shriek of an animal reached his ears. Harry froze: Lupin was still on the loose.
"I hope he tears a Death Eater to shreds," said Harry out loud, rubbing his hands together for warmth. Talking to himself seemed to help him stay alert, so he continued. "But he could just as easily come and tear me apart. Don't want to wander around. But if I stay here..." He looked up at the pine trees surrounding him. "Wolves can't climb trees. Can they? God, I don't believe this..."
A human voice, so faint it was almost unrecognizable, interrupted Harry's monologue. He glanced up sharply, keen eyes searching the sea of whiteness that was the base of the mountain. "Harrrry!" It came again. "Harrrry!"
"I'm here!" he shouted without thinking. His voice was hoarse and weak. "I'M HERE!" He fell silent an instant later, cursing himself quietly. It could have been Voldemort's servants calling his name, and if not, such yelling might attract a werewolf's attention. The voice called again, closer this time. Harry did not answer.
He ran in circles to keep himself warm, to stay awake, but soon he was forcing himself to put on foot in front of another. The Warmth charm would not work. After half an hour Harry came to a standstill, watching his breath mist and linger in the air before his face. A sleepiness unlike any other crept over him, and even as his mind kicked and screamed to stay upright, his body fell over into the snow and blessed slumber claimed him.
****
Harry felt warm water running inside his mouth. It trickled down into his windpipe. He gasped and choked, then sat up and started coughing.
"He's awake."
Harry's eyes watered as he looked around the room. He was on the floor of a small log cabin, wrapped in blankets. Beside him crouched a wizard, his dreadlocks dusted with white. He reminded Harry of Lee Jordan. "Here," said the man, holding the cup of steaming water to Harry's lips. Harry wrapped his hands around the mug, grateful that his fingers were no longer burning cold, and took several slow sips. A vague taste of an herb lingered on his tongue as the tea warmed his insides.
"What--where am I?" He looked at the man questioningly, then started when he caught sight of an old lady standing by the window, looking out into the white world. She turned her birdlike face towards him. "Mrs. Figg?" he gasped, nearly dropping the cup.
Indeed, it was Mrs. Figg of Privett Drive, the crazy old woman who had forced Harry to look through albums upon albums of cats. "You're lucky to be alive, Harry," she said sharply. "Another thirty minutes and you would have been dead."
Harry blinked, shaking his head. "What are you doing here?" He looked down to see that he had taken off his glasses and was wiping them on his stiff shirt without realizing it.
The man raised an eyebrow. "I thought Sirius told him about us?" he said to Mrs. Figg.
"How much is the question," replied the witch grimly.
"You're the Order," said Harry suddenly, shoving his glasses back on and sitting up straighter. The idea of his old neighbor being an Auror was enough to break his last nerve. He began laughing hysterically. "You're part of the Order!"
"Harry!" The wizard who had offered him tea pushed him back down, clearly alarmed. When Harry had calmed he went on with a bite of terseness in his voice. "Yes, we are part of the Order. That is Arabella Figg, although I gather you've met before. I am Mundungus Fletcher."
The name sounded strangely familiar; Harry was sure Dumbledore had mentioned it sometime last year. "Where are we?"
"A tent," said Figg shortly, pacing back and forth in front of the window. Suddenly she stopped and slapped a hand against the glass. "Merlin curse it all, where are they?!"
"Calm down, Arabella," said Fletcher. Harry thought that he shouldn't be talking; the man looked absolutely frantic in an exhausted sort of way. He rose and walked to the old woman's side, towering over her. Both Aurors had deep bags under their eyes. "He's probably still looking for Harry."
"If he's still looking for Harry why in Merlin's name can't we get a message through to him?" snapped Figg.
"Who?" Harry sat up in alarm. "Is it Sirius?"
Figg dealt the window another blow and began muttering a string of curses under her breath that frightened Harry more than any werewolf could have. Fletcher was a bit more cooperative, if not reassuring. "You've been asleep for half an hour," he explained, turning to Harry. "Your godfather is still out there, no doubt searching for you. We have a way of communicating, but we can't get through to him. We don't know where he is."
Fletcher's patience under his obvious strain was amazing, but given the circumstances Harry couldn't appreciate it. "Why can't you get to him?" he cried.
The Auror sighed. "It requires his wand to tap out a sort of code. If he's using it for some kind of spell we can't get a message through."
"Go look for him! There's a werewolf out there!" The thought of Sirius being bitten by his own best friend was too much to bear. Harry jumped to his feet, nearly tripping over the blankets that tangled about his legs.
"Someone is looking for him," snapped Figg irately. "Two others, William and Orion. If they don't find him in another few minutes they'll come back and--sweet Morgana Le Fey!"
Mundungus Fletcher turned quickly to follow his Figg's gaze. Harry ran over to join them. "What is it?"
High up on the mountain's base red sparks were being sent into the sky, erupting from a very thick stand of pines, almost a small forest. "That's not his station," breathed Fletcher. "It's on the other side of the mountain!"
"No; it's by mine. How did he manage to...?!"
"They're sending up the red ones." As quick as a wink Fletcher had grabbed two discarded winter robes on the floor and tossed one to Mrs. Figg. "Can you Apparate up there?"
"I think." Figg extended a hand while as she struggled into the thick robes. Fletcher clasped her fingers.
"Harry, stay here," he ordered as Figg drew her wand.
Harry stumbled backwards away from the window, transfixed by the silent flares that streamed continuously into the air above the trees. His hand groped blindly for a second before his fingers locked around Fletcher's forearm with surprising strength. "No."
Mundungus couldn't do more than look surprised before the walls of the cabin disappeared.
****
"Do something useful!" screamed Rysk at Orion, who was sending up sparks. She cocked her wand to block another curse from a Death Eater before grabbing a handful of snow and flinging it at the black-robed wizard. The Death Eater reeled back, blinded, and Sirius took advantage of his position up in the tree to aim his wand.
"Stupefy!"
The Death Eater jerked and fell still as Rysk disarmed him. Black glanced wildly around in the moonlight . Orion was still holding his wand high, clinging to the branch above him and unleashing a stream of flares. William, backed up against the trunk of a pine, was grappling with two of Voldemort's servants at once. All three had lost their wands somewhere in the snow. Sirius dared not try to stun either of them for fear accidentally hitting William. In the dark he could make out two of the enemy lying prone on the ground below. Rysk had vanished.
William managed to push one of his attackers, a witch, away. As the woman stumbled back Black hit her with a spell and she fell to the ground.
"Four down, one to go..."
Two things happened at once then: Rysk flew from out of nowhere and grabbed the last of the Death Eaters (who had taken William by his long red hair); slammed him against another tree, and three figures Apparated into the middle of the grove.
"Harry!" Sirius clambered down the pine, ignoring the masses of snow that fell into his face. He raced through the snow to his godson and took his face in his hands. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine; I'm fine," said Harry, pulling away from Black's cold fingers. His godfather felt him up and down, as if trying to make sure that every bone was intact.
"What's going on?" demanded Fletcher, his wand out and at the ready as he scanned the grove. "Who's she?"
Rysk had shoved her forearm beneath her captive's chin and forced it up until his entire throat was exposed. Her right hand was held in a strange way, as if gripping something nobody could see and pressing it against his flesh. "Long way from the Ministry, isn't it?" she said conversationally, but her eyes were blazing. Harry started with a gasp when he recognized the Death Eater as Paul Ranone. The wizard's hands came up, his robe's sleeves falling away to reveal the Dark Mark burned into his arm, but Rysk only pushed her fingers closer to his throat. Ranone cried out as blood began to trickle down his neck. "I ought to kill you," she hissed.
"Rysk," said Sirius quietly. "Rysk!" She looked over sharply. Their gazes caught and held and for a moment it seemed to Harry that something passed between them. Then his teacher stepped back and sheathed her invisible blade, bringing her wand's tip to rest on Ranone's chest. "Stupefy."
Ranone fell, and with him the strange spell of silence that had taken sway over the stand of trees. "Where were you?" demanded Figg, glaring up at Orion and then to William. "It's been an hour!"
"We'll bloody explain after we get these scum back to the tent," said a man with long red hair, stepping forward to bind one of the unconscious Death Eaters, but at that moment Harry heard a voice shouting up in the trees: "Leave them! Leave them! Get back to the tent!"
"What is it?" shouted Rysk, glancing up at the wizard. Harry saw that she was trembling violently from the cold.
"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET BACK TO THE TENT NOW!" bellowed Orion, his voice distorted by panic. "IT'S LUPIN!"
There was a horrified silence before everyone Disapparated except for Sirius, Harry, and Rysk. "What the fuck are you doing?" shouted Rysk as Sirius swung up into the boughs of a pine.
"Someone has to keep track of him," replied Black as he continued to climb. "Take Harry and get out!"
Rysk ran through the snow to the foot of Sirius's tree. "Are you out of you God damn mind?!"
"I'm not leaving him!" Sirius looked down from up high. "He's coming! Get out!"
Harry turned around as he heard the muffled sound of running from somewhere in the thick grove. The werewolf came into view, its teeth bared, slobber flying from its jaws. Blood glistened on its wickedly curved claws as it barrelled towards him.
"Shit!" Rysk spun around to grab Harry, but he was already halfway up the tree. "Potter...!" She glanced over her shoulder and with impressive fluidity leapt into the pine after him.
The sudden addition of Rysk's weight swayed the tree slightly. Harry's foot slipped onto an icy patch on the trunk. He wavered...fought for balance...fell...
"Harry!"
Rysk's outstretched hand missed his robes by centimeters as he fell past her. He landed on his stomach painfully, winded. Lupin, who had been sniffing at Ranone, lifted his head when he saw movement on the ground.
Moving flesh. Moving blood.
Harry was used to struggling for breath after a hard fall, but as he looked up and saw the terror of nightmares lunging towards him, crimson-stained fangs coming closer, closer...He lifted a hand, tried to move; distantly he heard voices crying his name...
There was a strangled yell from somewhere in the grove before Harry saw the blur of black robes coming straight towards him. He was knocked aside painfully. The wolf's intended victim had been replaced by another. The boy who lived watched helplessly from where he lay as Lupin tore into Peter Pettigrew's leg. Harry's eyes widened in shock as he gasped desperately for breath.
Wormtail had saved his life.
The man who had once been his father's friend stared into Harry's face even though the werewolf continued to maul him. Red blood stained the snow for yards around as Pettigrew screamed and struggled against the wolf. Yet it seemed to Harry that he did not struggle; that relief came into his eyes as he stared at Harry and mouthed: "Forgive me."
"NO!" screamed Sirius. "NO, REMUS, STOP, STOP!" Rysk caught his arms and held him as he tried to climb down the tree. "Let me go! Let me go! Remus! Remus, no!"
"You idiot; he'll kill you, too!"
As Lupin ripped Pettigrew's stomach open Harry felt uncontrollable bile rise in his throat; he turned on his knees and vomited. As he wiped his watering eyes he realized that the sickening, wet sounds of an animal feeding had ceased. He turned and saw that the werewolf had frozen, gore still hanging in its mouth. Its mad eyes were glazed and its panting filled the trees. It began to spasm and to howl terribly, but did not move.
Weak, pale sunlight filtered through the trees. Dawn had come.
Slowly the werewolf lost its muscle, its fur. Soon in its place was a naked man on his fours, painfully thin, shaking uncontrollably. Remus Lupin looked around, his gaze unseeing, and glanced down at the angry gashes on his body confusedly. Then he saw the mangled, bloody mess that had once been Wormtail. He stared at the blood on his hands, a look of horror coming over his face, and began to shriek incoherently, falling onto his back and kicking away from the body. The red snow was steadily spreading.
"Remus!" Black broke free of Rysk and leapt to the ground. He ran to his friend and tried to grab his shoulders. Lupin continued to scream like a madman, lashing out weakly against Sirius. Black managed to subdue him and after a moment of struggling the werewolf began to sob violently. "No," he moaned, "no, please, please, no, I didn't do it, I didn't do it, no, please...!"
Sirius held Lupin as he continued to weep, rocking him back and forth like a child even as he himself continued to cry bitterly.
Harry was unable to tear his gaze away from the mass of bone and flesh that remained of Peter Pettigrew. His blood pounded in his ears and his breath was shallow, but his eyes remained dry. Suddenly he felt arms enveloping him, turning him around, and found his face buried in Rysk's shoulder. Then the tears came: great sobs that racked his body.
"Don't look," said Rysk coldly, but her touch was strangely gentle as she placed a hand on Harry's head. "Don't look."
