Chapter Eleven: Meteor Showers and Musings

'Well I don't know - a boarding school in the highlands, sounds a bit … boring if you ask me.'

'We make our own fun, Aunty Rose,' Lily said. She surreptitiously dug her hand down the side of the couch cushion, and bit back a smile when her fist closed around a coin. She had been doing this ever since Christmas Eve - keeping her eyes on the ground whenever she went anywhere for fallen coins and rooting between the couch cushions in every home she visited. So far she had found 12p.

'And didn't Petunia want to go?'

The whole Evans family went stiff. Tuney looked furious, Lily looked uncomfortable. 'It's - er - it's a … selective school,' Mr. Evans said. 'It just … selected Lily. We didn't apply. They wanted her.'

'Well I don't know - I don't know - sending her to school all that way away, and leaving little Tuney behind…'

Lily made her excuses and fled to the bathroom where she could examine the coin she had found. Her heart sank when she looked at it. It was an old penny. In old money - before decimalisation. It must have been shoved down that crack for years. And it was useless to her now. Glumly, she flushed it down the toilet and went back to her family.

But things perked up as they collected their coats, ready to leave. 'When do you go back to that school?' Aunty Rose asked her, pulling her aside.

'Tomorrow.'

'Well here you go - buy yourself some sweets - and don't tell Tuney. I'm proud of you, Lily - getting chosen for a selective school. You could really make something of yourself.' And she pressed a five pence coin into Lily's hand.

Lily stared at it. 'Thank you!' So now she had 17 pence. And she wasn't going to spend it on sweets. If she could just find 9 more pence before the end of the Easter holidays, then the girls could take up smoking in the summer term.

That night, the skies over Britain lit up like it was bonfire night. The sky glowed orange and shooting stars streaked to earth, shining bright white - their tails trailing behind them.

Lily and her muggle family stood on their front doorstep and stared upwards, their mouths open. Up and down the street - and all across Cokeworth - people were doing the same.

Up at Hogwarts, James and Sirius stared out of their dormitory window - watching silently as the meteors zoomed overhead, streaking the skies with a milky blur of light.

In the wide open spaces of the Welsh border, Remus and Lyall had a particularly good view. Lyall shook his head.

'What is it, dad?'

'This wasn't forecast. I had not heard anything about this being due and it is … spectacular.'

'So?'

'So - it means something. I can't read the stars, myself but … for those who can, I don't think this will be saying anything good.'

Peter arrived back at Hogwarts hours before any of his friends were expecting him to be there. He had asked his mum if he could travel by floo powder and, when she had refused, he had told her what the Slytherins had done (though he missed out the part about the tail, but he did have to say they had ripped his robes - in order to explain the hole in their seat). And - on hearing what he had suffered - Mrs. Pettigrew had sent furious owls to McGonagall demanding something be done … and he was granted a very early slot for using McGonagall's fireplace to get back to school.

It was barely after breakfast when he arrived. Remus wouldn't be getting there until the afternoon. The train would not reach school until late evening … and Peter did not feel much like trying to explain to James and Sirius (without Remus there to be kind) why he had come back by floo powder. He couldn't be sure they wouldn't laugh - that they wouldn't make fun of him and tell him he should be able to better defend himself.

If he waited until Remus got there, then Remus would take his side - so so would Sirius - so so would James … and his friends would take their revenge on the Slytherins who had tormented Peter.

However - that still left him with hours and hours of hiding to do. So - instead of lugging his trunk back to Gryffindor Tower - he instead made his way to the library (as it seemed very unlikely that Sirius and James would be found in there the day before school started) and went to lurk among the bookshelves.

It was very quiet in there. It was mostly exam year students who got the earliest floo powder slots back to school, and there were a handful of seventh years but no one else. Rita Skeeter was standing in the Astronomy section rifling through books on meteors. She tutted with impatience and approached Madam Pince. 'This isn't what I want - where are the books on what they mean?' she demanded.

'I'm afraid we only have a small Divination section in the library. Professor Dumbledore does not believe it is a subject of any merit - that is why it isn't taught in the school.'

'Professor Dumbledore gets to decide what branches of magic we can and can't learn, does he?' She sounded outraged.

'That's what being Headmaster means, yes.'

Peter smiled to himself and ducked behind the shelves, out of the way - found a cosy nook, stashed his things, and fell asleep.

Remus arrived back mid-afternoon. 'Good to see you, Lupin,' McGonagall said, as he struggled to his feet and dusted himself down. 'Perhaps - now you're back - you can keep those friends of yours out of trouble.'

'Have they been in trouble while I've been gone?'

She made a noise of assent through her nose and - smiling to himself - he collected his things and started heaving them towards the common room. He found Sirius and James up in the dorm, putting their scarves and mittens on.

'Excellent you're back - we're just going sledging - we need you to weigh it down.'

Remus frowned. 'Are you calling me fat?'

James shook his head irritably. 'No - it just goes faster when it's heavier. Come on!'

'Well - I need to unpack first.'

'Alright then - we'll see you out there.'

'Er - yeah - try not to get a detention before I get there … McGonagall was … are you in trouble?'

Sirius gave his bark of a laugh. 'When are we not in trouble?'

'What did you do?'

So they told him all about Snape and stashing him around the castle. 'Well how were we supposed to know that if you stun someone and use "petrificus totalus" on them at the same time it takes longer for both charms to wear off?' Sirius asked. 'Something to do with a lack of brain activity makes it harder for the body to throw off the effects - or so McGonagall yelled at us.'

'Which I don't even think is true,' James added. '- If a lack of brain activity makes hexes last longer, then Snivellus would never have woken up in the first place.'

They all laughed - and then Sirius told Remus to hurry up and join them outside, and the two of them went off, while Remus opened up his trunk and started to put his things away.

Sirius and James scampered out of the castle, huffed and puffed their way to the highest point of the mountain and then climbed on the sledge and pushed off. It took them a much shorter amount of time to reach the bottom than it had to get to the top - and they whizzed downward, yelling their heads off and half blinded by snow.

They tumbled off, laughing, and then - once they had their breath back - started the long, hard slog back up the hill. 'Can't wait until we can apparate,' Sirius said. 'It will improve everything … struggling up the hill like a muggle…'

But for all his grumbling, Sirius was fast outpacing James - on his far longer legs and not encumbered with the sledge. And by the time he reached the top, he was miles ahead - and there was no one around save one very stiff looking tabby cat who was watching him disapprovingly.

He shrugged - and looked around, staring out across the castle, and the forest spread out below him … and then the cold caused his bladder to give a tug and, checking there was still no one about, he turned to the wall and started to fiddle with his flies.

And then all the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the way they do when the sensation of being watched is particularly strong. He could feel a pair of eyeballs staring between his shoulder blades, like a dagger.

He glanced back to check. It was still just the cat. It was an unusually stern cat - and it had markings around its eyes like square spectacles, which reminded him uncannily of Big Macca … but it was only a cat. He turned back to undo his flies … and then something clicked in his brain.

He looked back again, at the unusually stiff, unusually stern, bespectacled cat. 'Pro - Professor McGonagall?' he said. And then he took a step back and gave a yell of alarm as the cat did indeed turn into his Head of House.

'Impressive, Black. How did you know?'

'It was the way you were looking at me,' he said (he could hardly tell her he had rifled through her private correspondence, when he was supposed to be in detention) '- only you look at me like that, like I'm a bug you're about to squash... Professor? … You weren't really going to wait until I had my todger out to transform back were you? To catch me in the act?'

But she only gave him a wintry smile and walked away.

' Evil,' he breathed.

James finally struggled to the top, 'what's going on?'

'Nothing - don't have a wee though, Big Macca's creeping about.'

'Nah - I'm alright … But look over there.' He pointed down the slope, towards the forest, where a small figure could be seen creeping along the edge of the treeline. 'Is that Pete?'

'Don't be soft! Pete's on the train - eating the trolley out of liquorice wands.'

'But look at him scuttling. No one scuttles like Pete - I'm telling you, that's him.' The figure vanished into the trees. 'We should go after him - he might get eaten by werewolves…. Ow!' He rubbed the back of his head where Sirius had just smacked him.

'There aren't werewolves in the forest, you pillock. The only werewolf in the area is currently up in our dorm, neatly putting his socks away.'

'Oh …yeah … but, still - if anyone could get eaten by a werewolf that isn't there - it's Pete. We should go after him - see what he's up to.'

So they sledged back down the hill and - when they reached the bottom - struggled up and headed towards the forest, following the small footprints in the snow.

Remus glanced out of the window. His unpacking was almost finished - he just needed to fold and put away his socks … He frowned as he saw two figures running into the forest. It looked uncannily like Sirius and James - but they were supposed to be sledging. Why would they…

He abandoned the last of his socks on the bed and grabbed his cloak and scarf and dashed for the door. The term hadn't even started yet and the boys were already in detention - if they were going to do something as stupid as wander into the Forbidden Forest then Remus would have to try and save them from themselves… otherwise Big Macca might place the blame on him!

Although the last of the wintry sun was still struggling its feeble way through the heavy clouds, inside the forest it was already dark. 'What's he doing in here?' Sirius muttered, taking out his wand and lighting it up. 'He must be mental … I wouldn't have thought little Peter would be brave enough to come in here alone.'

They followed his footprints a while further … keeping a wary eye out for the creatures that were rustling in the undergrowth, and hoping they were nothing too big - or man eating. And then suddenly they reached a patch of ground where the snow was disturbed - where Peter's footsteps had suddenly been jumbled over, seemed to twist and turn as if there was more than one person and they were in a panic … and were then covered over with …

'Hoof prints,' James said. 'A herd of … something came past this way … and soon after Peter. Maybe they caught him.'

'Do you think it was thestrals?' Sirius asked, he stamped his feet and blew on his fingers to try and ward off the cold air.

'I think thestrals is the best case scenario but …'

They heard the distant sound of hoofbeats rattling the ground and coming ever closer.

'Centaurs!' Sirius groaned.

James grabbed hold of him. 'I think we better…' he started to drag Sirius backwards as the hooves became more and more furious, and louder with every step. And then something large rustled in the bushes … the boys backed away in alarm - only for Peter, covered in mud and with his robes ripped, to come bursting out of the underbrush.

He cannoned straight into them and they all toppled over in a tangle of limbs and with much loud swearing.

'Pete - what's going…'

'Centaurs - run!'

They struggled back to their feet (which was not easy what with the snow and the panicking Peter) and were just looking around for the best way to escape, as the ground began to vibrate underneath their feet, when the first centaur broke out into the open. It raised its bow and arrow.

The boys screamed and threw themselves down face first onto the ground, and the arrow whizzed over their heads and buried itself deep into the bark of a tree. 'Blimey!' James breathed, looking back at where it stuck out, the end quivering.

More and more centaurs were breaking through, and gathering around and stamping the ground with their hooves.

'You have no business in the forest, wizards,' one of them said - it was the one from the night of their detention - a giant of a centaur with wild looking black hair.

'They're just foals, Bane,' another centaur told him.

'These ones have been here before.'

'We don't hurt foals - let them go.'

'But foals grow into men - and these three are already full of the arrogance of their kind, they walk into this forest as if it is theirs - they treat it as their playground.' He took another arrow from his quiver and nocked it, aiming down at the cowering boys.

Peter moaned. Sirius closed his eyes and waited …

There was another rustle from the bushes - and then came the sound of human footsteps crunching snow. 'They're with me.'

The bow never fired.

Sirius opened his eyes.

Remus had appeared from nowhere and walked up to Bane - was now standing right in front of him - less than a foot away - and staring up at him, unblinking. 'I'm allowed to be here, aren't I?'

Bane nodded his head. 'Yes, little wolf - the forest is home to all creatures.'

'Then they are with me.'

'You should not bring their kind in here.'

Remus stood his ground. 'You cannot tell me who I can and can't bring in here. Either I belong here or I don't. And if I do - then I can have my friends in here with me.'

'Wizards are not friends with halfbreeds.'

Remus flushed, but did not back down. 'These ones are. And as long as they are with me - you cannot harm them.'

Bane stared down at him for a long moment. Remus stared back up - still refusing to blink; meeting the challenge. He held his breath; his heart beat frantically in his chest and his palms were sweaty despite the cold. But outwardly, he showed no sign of fear..

'Come on, Bane,' a chestnut centaur said impatiently. 'Leave the wolf and the foals and lets go.' The other centaurs turned and started to leave … and after a moment longer, Bane did the same.

Once he had vanished from sight, Remus seemed to sag and then dropped to the floor, breathing very hard. The others crawled their way across to him and helped him back to his feet. 'You were amazing!' Sirius told him. Remus still seemed inclined to collapse, so Sirius ducked under his arm, wrapping it across his own shoulders, to support him. 'That was the bravest thing I ever saw.'

'Stupidest thing.'

'Nah - that was Pete coming in here in the first place. That was full on heroic. We owe you, big time.'

Remus flushed with pleasure - but was still wobbly on his legs. 'Well - just don't make me do it again. Ever.'

'Are you kidding?' James said, 'this is brilliant, it means we can go anywhere in the forest just as long as we have you with us.'

'Please don't make that your take home lesson from this.'

But James' face was already glowing with excitement as he considered the adventures they could now have in here - all the places they could explore, all the monsters they could bump into, just as long as they waved Remus around as a talisman for safe passage.

'So - Peter, what were you doing in here in the first place?' Sirius asked him, as they stumped their way back out of the trees.

'Oh - er - I came to draw,' he held up the parchment and quill he was clutching.

'Why aren't you on the train?'

'I - er - I'll tell you later,' he mumbled, and went very red.

'What I don't understand.' James said thoughtfully, 'and - no offence, Remus - is why the centaurs are so alright with having a werewolf in the forest in the first place. If he transformed in here - they'd be laughing on the other side of their faces then.'

'No.' Remus fought down a furious blush. 'Werewolves only hunt humans. They're perfectly safe around all other creatures, other animals. I mean, they might attack them, but no more than any other predator might. And the bites and scratches aren't cursed. A herd of centaurs could easily see off a lone werewolf.'

'Oh - I didn't know that.'

They reclaimed their sledge and then made their weary way back to school. The train was still not back and the halls were still empty and echoey. As they reached the top of the marble staircase, they heard the front doors of the castle slam shut. They turned to look - and saw Rita Skeeter standing there, looking wild eyed and very much the worse for wear. There was mud streaked on her face, a rip in her robes and leaves in her hair. She glanced around the entrance hall - still looking dazed and frightened - and then scurried off in the direction of the Ravenclaw common room.

'Blimey, what happened to her?' James asked.

After the feast, that evening, they stayed up in their dorm showing each other what they had got for Christmas. James' presents took by far the longest to go through. And Sirius didn't even bother to join in, though he did take the camera off Remus and look at it hungrily. 'Can I take it apart to see how it works?'

'It was my mum's.'

'Oh.' He handed it back over.

Remus hesitated - and then gave it back. 'Alright - but just … get it working again, OK?'

Sirius grinned. 'Thanks - I'll get it working even better.'

They went to bed and - stuffed full with the delicious feast - soon fell asleep. Apart from Sirius, who lay awake - staring into the dark - thinking about Remus saving them from the centaurs, and letting him take his mum's camera apart, and turning things over in his mind.

Eventually, he got out of bed - padded across to where James was sleeping, climbed in next to him and gave him a rather vicious prod to wake him up.

Remus was woken up the next morning by a pillow being smacked in his face. 'Mmpf!'

'Wake up, Remus - wake up,' James hit him with the pillow again. 'We've had an idea.' He scrambled onto the bed, his face was glowing. 'Well - Sirius had the idea - but it's absolutely brilliant!'

Over on his own bed, Sirius tried to look modest - and failed miserably … looking very pleased with himself instead.

'We've worked out how we can help you - we're going to keep you company during the full moon.'

'Don't be mental. I'm too dangerous - I'll rip your heads off.'

'Not with what we've got planned. Tell him, Sirius!'

'There's a spell we can learn - it means we can turn ourselves into animals. You said werewolves wouldn't hurt animals.'

'Well - no - but … that sounds pretty advanced magic.'

'Big Macca can do it, she can turn into a tabby cat.' Everyone stared at him.

'How do you know?' They all chorused.

'I saw her letter about it from the Ministry. And then I saw her transform yesterday. She was sneaking around trying to get us in trouble - but I saw through her disguise.' He looked unbearably smug for a moment, but very handsomely so. 'It's got a name - being turned into an animal. I don't remember what it was, but we can look it up. The Ministry keeps tabs on you while you try to do it.'

'Well - there you go,' Remus said. 'There is no way the Ministry is going to let a bunch of underage wizards try magic so difficult… just to help out a werewolf. Me and the Minister don't exactly get along, in case you hadn't remembered.'

'Oh don't be soft, Remus! We're not going to tell the Ministry. We're going to do it … illegally! '

'That's what makes it so much fun,' James grinned.

'But what happens to you if you get caught?' Remus asked.

Sirius only shrugged. 'Oh, nothing much,' he said airily. 'Just a 300 galleon fine and 18 months in Azkaban.'

'What?'

'Er - maybe we should rethink this idea,' Peter said, sounding nervous.

Remus nodded. 'What Peter said - you're both mental. And no one's going to Azkaban for me.'

'None of us are ever going to go to Azkaban; we won't be caught - we're far too clever.' Sirius looked smug again. 'Besides - I'd like to see the prison that thinks it can hold me .'

'No one can break out of Azkaban, Sirius. It's never been done.'

'I could.'

'And then what - spend the rest of your life on the run? Stop being mental!'

'Look - it doesn't hurt for us to look into it, does it?' James said. His voice was reasonable but he was still glowing like a belisha beacon at a muggle zebra crossing. 'If Big Macca's only just learned to do it, it could take us ages just to find out how. But we want to help you, we want to make your transformations easier - and the sooner we start looking, the sooner we can learn. There's no point waiting until we're of age just to start checking the books.'

'Come on, Remus - you can't actually stop us, so…' Sirius grinned at him.

'I could tell Big Macca what you're planning.'

'You wouldn't dare - she'd chuck us out. And anyway - you're not a snitch…' he shot a wary glance at Peter, remembering all too well who it was that had grassed him up last time he was in serious trouble. 'And no one else is telling Big Macca, either,' he said, with just a hint of a threat to his voice. 'We'll go to the library at break time.'

But Madam Pince followed them around and kept such a close eye on them that they soon realised that, if they wanted to secretly look anything up in there, they would have to do it at night - under the invisibility cloak.

Meanwhile Rita Skeeter's first newsletter of the new year was awaiting them at the breakfast table and it seemed she had decided to lead with the meteor shower:

Shooting Stars Signify Sorrow Yet to Come

The whole of Britain - magic and muggle alike - were caught off guard and left staring open mouthed, two nights ago, when a storm of meteors hurtled to earth, despite there having been no such showers forecast.

Your humble reporter, Rita Skeeter (whose insatiable lust for the truth leads her to endanger life and limb to keep you in the swim) set out to discover just what these shooting stars could mean.

It would seem that the best people (if that is the word) to ask, when it comes to reading the skies and the patterns found therein, are the centaurs - a wild herd of whom live in the Forbidden Forest.

This paragraph was accompanied by an enchanted sketch of a ferocious looking centaur (who closely resembled Bane) aiming a bow and arrow.

Unfortunately centaurs are not particularly well known for being wizard friendly - and became enraged when I attempted to interview them.

'It must have been Rita who set off the stampede yesterday,' James said.

Sirius barked in laughter, 'that explains why she looked such a state when we saw her - it was lucky for us we had Remus.'

However, I did manage to glean some insights while still investigating under cover.

'When she was eavesdropping, she means,' Remus said.

'Spying more like it. No wonder the centaurs kicked off. It was very lucky for us we had you…'

Although centaurs claim that the reading of the dance of the heavenly bodies can take years, perhaps decades, to truly understand the portents - nevertheless they were already reading much into the unexpected events of the night before.

And none of it was good.

The preliminary reading of the shifting positions of the heavens told our halfbreed friends (though perhaps that is not how they see themselves) that great sorrow was headed to the world of men and magic. That loss and grief and torment beyond comprehension lies directly in our path.

There was some debate as to whether it was war or plague that was spoken of in the stars, but what they all agreed upon was that death and destruction is hurtling its way towards our little world in the same way those meteors hurtled to earth.

Unfortunately there is no way for us to verify if what the centaurs said was true (and see my next article for the reason for that!) However it is perhaps safest to believe them and start to take precautionary steps for the dark days to come.

'Is she trying to start a panic?' James asked, reading that last line.

'Probably.'

Remus wrinkled his nose. 'I'm not saying telling us to prepare for doomsday is the most sensible course of action but … she isn't wrong is she? All the signs are there that dark things are coming. The missing people, the way the Slytherins are behaving … the werewolf attacks…'

He ignored the second article ("Dumbledore's Dominion: His Damnation of Divination - Hegemony of the Headmaster and how it Affects Our Education") and reread the paragraph about what the meteors might mean. He glanced at the sketch of the centaur - and began to frown. A little wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, and he gnawed on his lip.

And he stayed frowning and thinking all through double Potions and Herbology and Flying (it was freezing out on the brooms in the snow - and more people than him were grimacing … though James seemed not to notice the cold, it was his turn to ride the Silver Arrow and he swooped and soared … and dive bombed the Slytherins).

That night, as he waited for it to be time for his Astronomy lesson, Remus went up to his dormitory, took out Rita's newsletter and looked at it. Then he looked at the picture pinned next to his bed.

'What are you doing?' Sirius asked, bounding up the stairs and through the door.

'Thinking thoughts that - as a good friend - I probably shouldn't be thinking.'

'What do you mean?'

'Look at this,' he held out the newsletter. 'The drawing of the centaur … and then look at this,' he tapped the enchanted sketch of him turning a centaur into a donkey.

'So?'

'It's the same centaur.'

'Yeah - looks just like that berk, Bane.'

'No - I mean it's the same drawing, apart from the bow and arrow. I mean - the exact same drawing.'

'So?'

'So … if it's the exact same drawing, don't you think that might be because the exact same person drew it?' He waited - watching the understanding start to dawn on Sirius's handsome face.

'Peter? You think Peter is the one illustrating Rita's newsletters?'

'Well it certainly looks that way.'

'Come on, let's go and ask him.' He took the drawing from the wall and ran back down to the common room, where Peter and James were sitting by the fire, playing Gobstones. Sirius threw the drawing and the newsletter down on the table. Both boys looked up.

'What's going on?' asked James.

'That's what we'd like to know, Peter.' He raised an eyebrow at the smaller boy, and Peter looked at the two sketches and squirmed.

'It's nothing,' he said.

'You draw for Rita Skeeter's horrible newsletter. That's why you were in the forest yesterday, you were meeting her. Spying with her. You're the one making the sketches. All that horrible stuff on Dumbledore and Big Macca - that drawing of the werewolf attack - you were a part of it.'

'Well - yes - but … it's nothing.'

'Nothing?' Sirius lowered his voice to a hiss so no one else would hear. 'You know how much trouble Remus was in! And you drew that picture!'

'I'm sorry - Remus, really - but - you see, it was Rita. She just asked me and … I couldn't say no.'

'Why not?' Remus asked him.

'Well - er - you see…' he shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Sirius. 'Oh …well - if you must know…' He began to twist his hands together and his forehead took on a rather sweaty sheen. 'That first weekend at school she - well, she overheard me talking to Regulus … about Andromeda and Ted Tonks. Well, I didn't mean for her to overhear! I just bumped into Reg and he was being all… Slytherish about you, Sirius - and Gryffindors - and well, he was only by himself and I thought I could … So I brought up Andromeda to put him in his place. But she was listening in and she latched onto the story and well … agreeing to do the sketches for her was the only way I could stop her from naming me as her source!'

'You're the one who told!' Sirius roared, sounding more like a bear than a boy. 'Peter - I've been getting hexed left right and centre, my mum sent me a howler - and didn't send me a birthday present. I only got three sickles and some dried nuts for Christmas! And all because they think I'm the one that told … and now it turns out it was you? … And Reg?'

'I'm sorry, Sirius, I didn't mean for it to happen!'

'Why didn't you tell me?'

'Pete was probably afraid you'd rip his ears off,' James said. 'You can be pretty scary, mate. Come on, your mum sends you howlers all the time anyway, and your Christmas presents are always naff. So no harm done.'

'No harm done? - Narcissa hit me with a constipation curse that lasted five days!'

'And yet now you're Regulus as ever…'

And despite himself, his furious expression began to twitch - and then he was having to bite back a laugh … and then all of them were laughing, and Peter was looking mightily relieved.

Sirius cuffed him round the back of the head. 'But I'm getting a bit tired of taking the blame for bad stuff you do, Pete - never again, you hear me?'