Chapter 32: Tolstoy logic
"Run!!!" Sirius screamed. He didn't have to. He and Remus were already sliding down the ridge and shooting off into the thicket.
"Come ON!" Remus yelled at Sirius who had caught his foot in a root. Sirius freed himself.
They continued to run. Hearts pounding against flesh furiously. It pained them to breathe, but their legs could've gone on for ever. God, Remus thought, the feeling in his chest was one of suffocation. Unbearable tightness, as if he were being stretched within a tiny space.
-Moon-dog!- cried ou Rat's mental voice. -You must split up!-
**I doubt I'll be able to get that through to Sirius**
-Be SILENT and heed me, fool!-
**...Hurts**
-SPLIT!-
At the same time, Remus had yelled out the word as well. No doubt their attacker would know. He would waste more energy on anger then.
Behind him, he could hear Sirius take another route. However, he simply couldn't stop running. He felt inclined to keep it up, though his legs were beginning to tire. Pain shot up through the nerves and muscles.
He kept on running.
~
He slowed down...
-You're safe. The other is too far behind you. Your friend is dealing with him-
Remus nodded but stopped running after several long minutes. When he did, he felt his heart beating at an almost impossible pace, sending violent spasm of pain throughout his chest and a taste of blood in his mouth.
**Water**
-Wait-
He looked around at his surroundings. Trees trees and yet more f**king trees.
**What?**
-Another rat? No... something is wrong, Moon-dog... *very* wrong...-
Remus smelt the air. He blinked. He knew that scent. He'd know it anywhere.
Wormtail.
Remus moved along forward, ears pricking for any tiny sound, any betrayal of the other man's presence.
The branches barely rustled as he crept low and brushed past them. A twig snapped beneath his feet. An animal could've done that, he thought grimly to himself. Perhaps the little worm will think that of it.
What spells should he use? A slow, painful death-charm? Ropes to bind, gases to blind. Ah, yes.
Any number of those things.
He was getting towards the clearing. Smiling to himself, he withdrew the blade from it's complete sheath and tucked it in his belt so that he could reach for it more easily.
**And remember, watch for the hand**
A painfully slow, laborous breath. Another.
Then he stopped, suddenly still.
He raised his right arm ever so slightly, gently, the graceful assassin. His right hand gripped the wand tightly. He grinned. A wind blew brown hair into his face and Severus wasn't here to gently brush it away.
Severus.
Would either be alive to see each other again? Or would both die, two more of Dumbledore's pawns.
**Or maybe, it's Dumbledore who is the real pawn...**
Grey eyes shone.
And to think, the battle hadn't even started yet.
On the other side of the clearing, a figure in slightly tattered, brown robes stumbled through, hands shielding face from the brambles. Low curses emitted from it's person. The figure was short, of a plump build.
Wormtail had returned.
Stepping over the low lying bushes and into the clearing, Remus straightened himself, every inch the greying, charming gentleman, just as he had been in the Shrieking Shack. Just as he'd managed to be with Dumbledore. His grey eyes, however, bore none of the charm that lay like a well fitting mask on his face. They were cold and flinty.
"Ah, Peter," he said softly, but loud enough for the man to hear. "I've been expecting you."
Wormtail had since stopped picking out brambles from his skin. The evidence could be seen, however, in the form of numerous cuts and scractches: Lupin noticed that Peter rarely moved his silver hand to aid him. Looking up, round eyes still watery and nervous, Remus could see a schizophrenic glint in them. It was hardly surprising.
"Have you now?" He sneered, but the sneer disappeared quickly.
"Mm-hm. Don't worry, you haven't kept me waiting for long, though," was the calm reassurance.
"So glad to hear that, now if you'll excuse me..." Wormtail's shining silver hand slowly reached for his wand that remained tucked into his simple belt on his other side, "... You do understand of course that I must kill you." He pointed the wand, his insane grin revealing yellow teeth and whitened gums. "*Avada Kedavra*!"
Quickly, Remus muttered "Abortisma!" And moved out of the way. Looking at the spot where he had been, he realised that nothing had been affected. So the spell worked. He would have to tell Severus.
Pettigrew looked confused: it was generally thought that no spell could deflect the Killing curse.
"So," he said quietly, a technique he must have learned from his master, "you prefer it the painful way, hm?"
Remus braced himself.
Approaching him steadily, Wormtail continued to leer. "There's no need to be frightened... simply bring it on... I'll make it easier for you."
What was that Severus had once said? Zen Buddhism: a warrior who speaks indiscriminately brings only shame. The werewolf was surprised to catch himself smiling: what a time for him to be remembering battlefield philosophies!
"There isn't much to smile about, you know, Remus...." Wormtail crouched. Keeping his eyes on the man's face, Lupin noticed that Pettigrew had discreetly curled his fingers around a piece of rock.
Diversion tactics: my, aren't we getting clever?
Had Peter noticed that Remus' other hand was gripping the hilt of his knife?
Perhaps it would be better if he had.
As Lupin anticipated, Wormtail threw it. Lupin dodged it by turning on his side, just as Wormtail sprang up and forwards, his silver, clawed hand swiping.
Remus had been planning to strike up immediately, but he was too slow.
Wormtail grinned in triumph.
Ignoring the deep gash in his arm, Lupin drew out the knife and began to stab blindly, somehow knowing that he was stabbing in the other man's guts. The stink that came after reassured the werewolf of his aim: Wormtail wouldn't survive this.
Question was, would he?
He slashed at the throat, if only to make sure that the man - still violently twitching - was dead. The silver hand was thrashing and convulsing wildly enough to be a danger to the werewolf, so Lupin attempted to still himself and slash at Pettigrew's wrists. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the seductive taste of blood in his mouth, Remus did so, succeeding only in partially severing the man's hand, though the silver received several gouges.
Pettigrew fell to the earthy floor of the clearing, blood turning a shiny black, like tar, as it oozed it's way from the fallen corpse, soaking into the earth and surrounding grass.
"Shit," he said quietly, before hitting the ground himself, landing in a sitting position.
Battle-fever gone, Remus was aware of a pain in his left arm. He knew he had to stop the silver essence from spreading. Vaguely conscious, Remus attempted to dab at the dark, gaping wound. Had Pettigrew actually screamed? Should he expect a horde of Death Eaters to come stampeding through the forest?
Lupin sat up, feeling what he was sure was the silver essence travelling as his heart pumped through his veins.
Only a little longer, he consoled himself.
"Remus?"
He blinked, not turning his head to the direction of the voice. He was too tired. It was too much of a strain.
"Oh, god, Remus!"
It was Lira.
She rushed over to him, whipped off her cloak and bundled it under her arms to use as a pillow to prop Remus up with. Tears were filming her eyes. "Remus..." she whispered, hands shaking. Out of the medicine kit Snape had insisted all of them have - why hadn't I remembered that? He thought fuzzily - she withdrew the cleansing potion, spelled bandages, spelled needle and thread. Methodically she dripped the potion onto the wound, (it hissed and smoked, sending a pleasantly citric smell into the air) wiped away the excess potion, grime and congealed blood and, after stitching it up, bound the wound well with the bandages.
"It'll be fine," she murmured. "Just relax... count sheep... keep yourself awake. Damn it," she muttered, "Come on, Severus... you gotta get here soon..."
After a few moments, two people came crashing through the bushes, both as dishevelled and tired as the other. Sirius and Severus: when they saw Lira kneeling by a dying Remus, they both rushed over.
"Severus!" Remus said rather weakly. He'd come back alive after all.
"Remus..." Snape knelt by the other side. There was a question in his eyes. He looked over to the bloody mess that was Pettigrew and Remus realised he understood. "Oh, Remus..." he sighed, black eyes seemingly only concerned, though Remus knew that his lover was being torn apart inwardly. "Hold on."
His eyes fluttered.
"Stay awake, Remus!" Severus snapped.
A ragged breath escaped him.
Lupin didn't see that Snape had taken out a syringe from his own medicine pouch and a small vial of an orange red liquid. He saw others coming out from the shrubbery, each tired and dirty and bloody. They each had a look of intense alarm and worry on their faces.
"Keep your eyes open... please..." that was Severus. Remus had never heard him say please before, not like this, anyway. He looked up into Snape's eyes and tried to keep a hold onto them. "That's it..." a slight smile was ont he other man's face, "just keep your eyes open..."
With a calm not visible in his eyes, Snape took a measure inside the syringe and placed the needle to Remus' arm left arm.
Lupin's eyes were growing heavy.
"Stay awake," Lira whispered, clutching at his other hand. "Please... stay awake..."
"Come on Moony," said Sirius' quiet voice. "Just keep your eyes open..."
"I don't think--" he started.
Snape pushed the syringe: Lupin watched as the orange liquid emptied into his blood stream.
"It shouldn't... shouldn't take long to begin to work, now," Snape started. "Just keep your eyes open, think... count sheep or something..."
"Keep your eyes open..."
"Breath slowly..."
"Come on now..."
The leaden weight was spreading from his heart and lungs, spreading all around his body. His fingers went numb after a brief moment of desperate tingling. His hands were weighted. He was being pulled down to the earth.
Spots were beginnning to appear on the periphery of his vision.
"Remus... Remus?"
His vision was darkening.
"Remus?"
...
He closed his eyes.
*
To be or not to be?
"Run!!!" Sirius screamed. He didn't have to. He and Remus were already sliding down the ridge and shooting off into the thicket.
"Come ON!" Remus yelled at Sirius who had caught his foot in a root. Sirius freed himself.
They continued to run. Hearts pounding against flesh furiously. It pained them to breathe, but their legs could've gone on for ever. God, Remus thought, the feeling in his chest was one of suffocation. Unbearable tightness, as if he were being stretched within a tiny space.
-Moon-dog!- cried ou Rat's mental voice. -You must split up!-
**I doubt I'll be able to get that through to Sirius**
-Be SILENT and heed me, fool!-
**...Hurts**
-SPLIT!-
At the same time, Remus had yelled out the word as well. No doubt their attacker would know. He would waste more energy on anger then.
Behind him, he could hear Sirius take another route. However, he simply couldn't stop running. He felt inclined to keep it up, though his legs were beginning to tire. Pain shot up through the nerves and muscles.
He kept on running.
~
He slowed down...
-You're safe. The other is too far behind you. Your friend is dealing with him-
Remus nodded but stopped running after several long minutes. When he did, he felt his heart beating at an almost impossible pace, sending violent spasm of pain throughout his chest and a taste of blood in his mouth.
**Water**
-Wait-
He looked around at his surroundings. Trees trees and yet more f**king trees.
**What?**
-Another rat? No... something is wrong, Moon-dog... *very* wrong...-
Remus smelt the air. He blinked. He knew that scent. He'd know it anywhere.
Wormtail.
Remus moved along forward, ears pricking for any tiny sound, any betrayal of the other man's presence.
The branches barely rustled as he crept low and brushed past them. A twig snapped beneath his feet. An animal could've done that, he thought grimly to himself. Perhaps the little worm will think that of it.
What spells should he use? A slow, painful death-charm? Ropes to bind, gases to blind. Ah, yes.
Any number of those things.
He was getting towards the clearing. Smiling to himself, he withdrew the blade from it's complete sheath and tucked it in his belt so that he could reach for it more easily.
**And remember, watch for the hand**
A painfully slow, laborous breath. Another.
Then he stopped, suddenly still.
He raised his right arm ever so slightly, gently, the graceful assassin. His right hand gripped the wand tightly. He grinned. A wind blew brown hair into his face and Severus wasn't here to gently brush it away.
Severus.
Would either be alive to see each other again? Or would both die, two more of Dumbledore's pawns.
**Or maybe, it's Dumbledore who is the real pawn...**
Grey eyes shone.
And to think, the battle hadn't even started yet.
On the other side of the clearing, a figure in slightly tattered, brown robes stumbled through, hands shielding face from the brambles. Low curses emitted from it's person. The figure was short, of a plump build.
Wormtail had returned.
Stepping over the low lying bushes and into the clearing, Remus straightened himself, every inch the greying, charming gentleman, just as he had been in the Shrieking Shack. Just as he'd managed to be with Dumbledore. His grey eyes, however, bore none of the charm that lay like a well fitting mask on his face. They were cold and flinty.
"Ah, Peter," he said softly, but loud enough for the man to hear. "I've been expecting you."
Wormtail had since stopped picking out brambles from his skin. The evidence could be seen, however, in the form of numerous cuts and scractches: Lupin noticed that Peter rarely moved his silver hand to aid him. Looking up, round eyes still watery and nervous, Remus could see a schizophrenic glint in them. It was hardly surprising.
"Have you now?" He sneered, but the sneer disappeared quickly.
"Mm-hm. Don't worry, you haven't kept me waiting for long, though," was the calm reassurance.
"So glad to hear that, now if you'll excuse me..." Wormtail's shining silver hand slowly reached for his wand that remained tucked into his simple belt on his other side, "... You do understand of course that I must kill you." He pointed the wand, his insane grin revealing yellow teeth and whitened gums. "*Avada Kedavra*!"
Quickly, Remus muttered "Abortisma!" And moved out of the way. Looking at the spot where he had been, he realised that nothing had been affected. So the spell worked. He would have to tell Severus.
Pettigrew looked confused: it was generally thought that no spell could deflect the Killing curse.
"So," he said quietly, a technique he must have learned from his master, "you prefer it the painful way, hm?"
Remus braced himself.
Approaching him steadily, Wormtail continued to leer. "There's no need to be frightened... simply bring it on... I'll make it easier for you."
What was that Severus had once said? Zen Buddhism: a warrior who speaks indiscriminately brings only shame. The werewolf was surprised to catch himself smiling: what a time for him to be remembering battlefield philosophies!
"There isn't much to smile about, you know, Remus...." Wormtail crouched. Keeping his eyes on the man's face, Lupin noticed that Pettigrew had discreetly curled his fingers around a piece of rock.
Diversion tactics: my, aren't we getting clever?
Had Peter noticed that Remus' other hand was gripping the hilt of his knife?
Perhaps it would be better if he had.
As Lupin anticipated, Wormtail threw it. Lupin dodged it by turning on his side, just as Wormtail sprang up and forwards, his silver, clawed hand swiping.
Remus had been planning to strike up immediately, but he was too slow.
Wormtail grinned in triumph.
Ignoring the deep gash in his arm, Lupin drew out the knife and began to stab blindly, somehow knowing that he was stabbing in the other man's guts. The stink that came after reassured the werewolf of his aim: Wormtail wouldn't survive this.
Question was, would he?
He slashed at the throat, if only to make sure that the man - still violently twitching - was dead. The silver hand was thrashing and convulsing wildly enough to be a danger to the werewolf, so Lupin attempted to still himself and slash at Pettigrew's wrists. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the seductive taste of blood in his mouth, Remus did so, succeeding only in partially severing the man's hand, though the silver received several gouges.
Pettigrew fell to the earthy floor of the clearing, blood turning a shiny black, like tar, as it oozed it's way from the fallen corpse, soaking into the earth and surrounding grass.
"Shit," he said quietly, before hitting the ground himself, landing in a sitting position.
Battle-fever gone, Remus was aware of a pain in his left arm. He knew he had to stop the silver essence from spreading. Vaguely conscious, Remus attempted to dab at the dark, gaping wound. Had Pettigrew actually screamed? Should he expect a horde of Death Eaters to come stampeding through the forest?
Lupin sat up, feeling what he was sure was the silver essence travelling as his heart pumped through his veins.
Only a little longer, he consoled himself.
"Remus?"
He blinked, not turning his head to the direction of the voice. He was too tired. It was too much of a strain.
"Oh, god, Remus!"
It was Lira.
She rushed over to him, whipped off her cloak and bundled it under her arms to use as a pillow to prop Remus up with. Tears were filming her eyes. "Remus..." she whispered, hands shaking. Out of the medicine kit Snape had insisted all of them have - why hadn't I remembered that? He thought fuzzily - she withdrew the cleansing potion, spelled bandages, spelled needle and thread. Methodically she dripped the potion onto the wound, (it hissed and smoked, sending a pleasantly citric smell into the air) wiped away the excess potion, grime and congealed blood and, after stitching it up, bound the wound well with the bandages.
"It'll be fine," she murmured. "Just relax... count sheep... keep yourself awake. Damn it," she muttered, "Come on, Severus... you gotta get here soon..."
After a few moments, two people came crashing through the bushes, both as dishevelled and tired as the other. Sirius and Severus: when they saw Lira kneeling by a dying Remus, they both rushed over.
"Severus!" Remus said rather weakly. He'd come back alive after all.
"Remus..." Snape knelt by the other side. There was a question in his eyes. He looked over to the bloody mess that was Pettigrew and Remus realised he understood. "Oh, Remus..." he sighed, black eyes seemingly only concerned, though Remus knew that his lover was being torn apart inwardly. "Hold on."
His eyes fluttered.
"Stay awake, Remus!" Severus snapped.
A ragged breath escaped him.
Lupin didn't see that Snape had taken out a syringe from his own medicine pouch and a small vial of an orange red liquid. He saw others coming out from the shrubbery, each tired and dirty and bloody. They each had a look of intense alarm and worry on their faces.
"Keep your eyes open... please..." that was Severus. Remus had never heard him say please before, not like this, anyway. He looked up into Snape's eyes and tried to keep a hold onto them. "That's it..." a slight smile was ont he other man's face, "just keep your eyes open..."
With a calm not visible in his eyes, Snape took a measure inside the syringe and placed the needle to Remus' arm left arm.
Lupin's eyes were growing heavy.
"Stay awake," Lira whispered, clutching at his other hand. "Please... stay awake..."
"Come on Moony," said Sirius' quiet voice. "Just keep your eyes open..."
"I don't think--" he started.
Snape pushed the syringe: Lupin watched as the orange liquid emptied into his blood stream.
"It shouldn't... shouldn't take long to begin to work, now," Snape started. "Just keep your eyes open, think... count sheep or something..."
"Keep your eyes open..."
"Breath slowly..."
"Come on now..."
The leaden weight was spreading from his heart and lungs, spreading all around his body. His fingers went numb after a brief moment of desperate tingling. His hands were weighted. He was being pulled down to the earth.
Spots were beginnning to appear on the periphery of his vision.
"Remus... Remus?"
His vision was darkening.
"Remus?"
...
He closed his eyes.
*
To be or not to be?
