Chapter Eleven
Sirius, exhausted and sore from the fight, watched Madam Pomfrey leave the room. He looked at James as he sunk down next to him. He was out of breath, too.
"You wouldn't think being friends with a werewolf would be worth it. But it is." Sirius said, voicing his thoughts. James nodded.
"Moony is worth it." he said.
The two friends changed into their pajamas, not speaking. Sirius slid between the cool linen sheets, trying not to get too comfortable, not wanting to fall asleep, wanting to lie in wait until Madam Pomfrey came to fetch Remus, when they could slip out of the dormitory under the cloak. Instead, he let his thoughts drift, and as usual, they landed on Sarah. He could see her in his mind's eye, soft dark hair falling gently around her shoulders, her deep blue eyes intense and affectionate. He sighed, pushing his face into his pillow and grinning. She was everything he ever wanted—well, almost everything. His thoughts turned to James. You don't know how lucky you are, he thought, to have a home, a family who loves you... who loves you... He felt suddenly as though something large and sour was attempting to claw its way out of his throat. Why didn't his family love him? Why did they have to be-- the way they were? He shoved back these poison thoughts, swallowed his bitter tears. I don't care, he told himself firmly. They don't deserve to be thought about, not by me or anybody else. James, Remus, Sarah, Peter, and even Lily... they are my true family. The thought warmed him, and he dozed off into a light sleep, his dreams were nothing but flashes—snapshots—of his life. Memories.
Mum screaming at him, while Regulus stood behind her, smirking. Scrubbing the floor in the entrance hall to that horrible house, swearing as he rubbed away the dirt. Sitting idly in his bedroom, wishing that it was the first day of term. Visiting the Potter's, watching almost enviously as Mrs. Potter fussed over the state of James's room. Meeting Sarah for the first time, winking at her as she stood talking to Lily. Sitting with her on the stone steps outside the Entrance Hall, his arm around her, watching the students mill over the lawn. Lounging under the beech tree, surrounded by friends, watching exasperatedly as James showed off his Snitch. Running as a dog across the grounds, nipping at the heels of a large stag. Lounging on the Quidditch Pitch, Sarah smoothing back his hair. Sitting on Remus's bed, his arms around a sobbing Lily. Taking a picture of Remus and Lily, asleep and content. Comforting James—
"Padfoot..." a hushed voice interrupted his dreams.
"Prongs?" he murmured groggily, "'S that you?"
"It's me," James whispered, his eyes alight with excitement. "Let's wake Wormtail, Madam Pomfrey just brought Moony down to the Willow a little bit ago..."
Sirius swung his feet over the edge of his bed, shaking his hair back from his face and yawning slightly. He slipped on his trainers and shook Wormtail awake.
"Get up, get up, little Peter," he sang quietly. Peter awoke with a start, stifling a yelp. But the next instant he grinned at Sirius, his eyes shining, and slipped on his shoes as well. There was an almost tangible air of excitement in the room, crackling in electric currents through the boys. They slid under the cloak and tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake Frank. As they creeped through the common room, none of them noticed a small red-headed figure shrouded by the shadows.
Progress through the castle was slow, but Sirius got them to the Entrance Hall fairly quickly using a secret passageway behind a large, ornate mirror on the third floor landing. Sirius threw the cloak off him when they reached the large oak doors, yanking the iron handle until it opened with a small creaking sound. The threesome slipped out onto the moonlit grounds and began making their way down to the Whomping Willow, which stood gleaming in the moonlight, twitching a branch every now and then. Sirius could feel anticipation pulsing through him in shivering waves and caught James's eyes for approval. James grinned, and Sirius laughed. He closed his eyes, searching for some part of him that was almost out of reach. He found it, a woven ring of fire in his mind's eye, and let himself drift into it, feeling his body shift, feeling his mind shift. He opened canine eyes. A rat was scampering toward the massive tree, and a stag was cantering after it. Padfoot chased his tail absently for a moment, getting used to his form, and then ran after the other two.
Padfoot snapped playfully at Prongs as they waited for Wormtail to press the knot in the trunk. It's the other one, dimwit! the dog thought at Wormtail lazily. The rat pressed the knot in question obediently, and the tree froze. Wagging his tail, Padfoot lead the way down the gap in the roots and to the end of the tunnel. They could hear the wolf from behind the door at the end of it. The Grim barked, and the wolf fell silent. Padfoot jumped up onto his hind legs and pawed the door handle, opening it quietly.
A massive tawny wolf bounded out from the doorway, tail thumping against the earthen wall in pleasure. Padfoot barked a welcome, racing the wolf down the passageway and out into the moonlight. Moony paused for a moment, gazing at the moon with a savage malice in his amber eyes. Padfoot whimpered slightly, begging the wolf to come away with them; to behave himself. The wolf tore his eyes from the full moon and greeted the stag and the rat, who had just emerged from the tunnel. The Willow began to move steadily again behind them, as the werewolf raised its head once more.
There was a light, in the trees behind them. With his canine sight, Padfoot could clearly recognize it as a wand-light. He looked closer. Lily! Panic flooded through him as the werewolf sniffed the air. The Grim leapt, covered the distance between him and the wolf in a single bound. A second too late. The tawny monster caught the girl's scent and gave chase. She screamed. The dog barked, a growl building in his throat, a primitive need to protect his pack coursing through his veins. The wand-light went out. The wolf would not harm her! Not if he had anything to do with it! Padfoot ran as fast as his paws would carry him, hunting down the wolf, snapping at its heels, the stag galloping next to his own shadowy form, trying desperately to herd the wolf back to the tree. He caught the scent of rage-- a hot, spicy scent, drifting from the werewolf. The figure in the trees was running now, flat-out, her cloak streaming behind her. The wolf was gaining. Lily screamed again.
Padfoot lunged forward with all his strength, landing on the wolf, jaws snapping at its throat. Moony slashed out with his steely claws, cutting the dog's muzzle. He yelped in pain, but ran after the wolf once more. The girl reached the castle doors, flung them open. She dashed inside, not stopping to close them once more. Prongs rooted himself at the base of the steps in front of Moony, lowering his head, shoving the wolf back with his antlers. Moony growled and circled the stag, clambering up the stone steps and to the doors. Padfoot was filled with a desperate sort of horror, a desperate need to defend his pack. He bounded forward, catching the wolf's tail in his sharp teeth just before it slipped inside Hogwarts.
He gave an enormous tug, and the wolf toppled backward onto him, the two of them tumbling down the gritty stairs, jaws locked in battle. Padfoot was the first to regain his footing at the foot of the steps, ignoring the pain lancing through his body from the deep gash in his side. Prongs reared up, hooves circling like a windmill, intending to come crashing down on the furious form of Moony. But the werewolf slinked out of the way before the hooves could land. The Grim snarled, biting at the wolf's neck, trying to avoid its jaws. But the wolf struck out again, slicing Padfoot's belly. He crumpled in pain. The wolf dodged between the stag's hooves and slid through the castle door.
The dog got to its feet, recovering as quickly as he could, pure panic keeping his mind sharp. He dripped blood as he ran up the steps once more. Prongs was at his side. No-- he thought --your hooves, you'll wake all the humans! Prongs started to argue, but stopped, saying instead, You had better keep her safe, Padfoot. The dog didn't reply, his mind now completely devoted to this one task. The hunt. The wolf left a trail of rage-scent behind him. Padfoot followed it, leaping down the moonlit corridors, praying that the human member of his pack had had enough sense to go someplace safe.
The chase brought him down various corridors until he could hear his quarry. He sped up, staining the scrubbed floor with his blood. The wolf was in sight in front of him, nose to the floor, closing in on his unseen prey. The jet-black dog padded forward as silently as he could, circling the wolf to back up against a rough wooden door. He leapt. The wolf was caught off-guard, and was thrown backward onto the floor. Padfoot pinned Moony down, a paw at his throat, snarling and baring his teeth. The wolf let out a small whimper of surrender. Padfoot did not release him. He looked around the corridor, searching for his pack-mate. She was nowhere in sight. There was a sound behind him. His ears pricked up. The rough wooden door was creaking open. Damn! That's the door to Filch's office! The wolf picked up his thought, and apparently was intimidated enough by the dog to follow him silently into hiding behind a large pillar.
But Filch had spotted the blood and was following its trail by the light of his lantern. Padfoot's thoughts raced. What to do?!? But just then, a resounding CRASH echoed through the castle, coming from behind Filch, in the opposite direction of the dog's hiding place. Filch turned, cackling madly, and hurried off down the corridor in the other direction. Padfoot watched him go, relief flooding him. He didn't know what had made the sound, nor did he care. The wolf was still whimpering apologetically. Padfoot silenced him with a low growl. The two of them set off down the corridor toward the Entrance Hall.
Prongs waited outside the massive doors, pawing the ground nervously. Is she alright? he asked immediately as they emerged. She's fine, Padfoot reassured him. He was starting to feel faint with the loss of blood, and his head was pounding. The other three followed him to the lake shore, where he drank and flopped down onto the dark, thick grass, exhausted and injured. The wolf was whimpering apologies as the dog licked its wounds. After he had rested and assured his pack that he would be alright, the four of them set off once more toward the forest, still shaken from the thought of what could have happened.
Sirius awoke the next morning with a terrible sense of dread lodged into his mind. It took him a moment to realize why this was so. And then last night caught up to him. Damn. It was all over, the game was up. Lily knew—Lily knew everything. What if she told Dumbledore, or worse, McGonagall? His blood ran cold at the mere thought of it. They'd be expelled for sure. He had to see her, had to know how much their newfound friendship meant to her.
He checked his clock. 5 o' clock in the morning. Good. Nobody with an ounce of sense would be up this early. He rolled out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cool floor soundlessly. He let his mind seek out the fiery magic within him almost lazily, and slipped into his dog form with ease. He padded down the staircase, claws clicking faintly on the stone. Padfoot reached the landing and headed up the forbidden steps to the girls dormitory, his dog form fooling the trick stairs.
He nosed open the door to the fifth year dormitory, slipped through it. He found Lily in an instant, her red hair cascading over her face as she slept. The dog went to her, leaning his head on the edge of her mattress and planning to nudge his cold nose in her peaceful, sleeping face as a wake-up call. But then he had a better idea, and, rearing up onto his hind legs, he placed his front paws on the bed with a soft flump and licked her face continually, drooling as much as possible. She awoke with a start.
"Eurgh!" she squealed, wiping her face with her sleeve and kicking at her blankets. Her gaze fell to the paws resting beside her, and she looked up into the face of the dog. His head was cocked to the side, and he sneezed in what she assumed was dog laughter.
"Sirius?"
The dog sneezed again and shifted, morphed. In all of an instant, Sirius Black was standing beside her bed, looking highly entertained. Lily noticed a gash on his arm, and another, very faint now, on his face. She masked her surprise.
"Good morning, sunshine!" he said brightly.
Lily blushed scarlet and pulled the blankets back over herself. She had on a very large long-sleeved shirt and a pair of cutoff sweats so short you couldn't see more than a glimpse of the frayed edges beneath the hem of her shirt. Sirius had noticed. He smiled at her in a knowing sort of way and sat on her bed. He was in his pajamas as well; a black t-shirt and some plaid, flannel pajama pants. Lily found herself wondering how it was humanly possible to look so good in flannel. How did he manage it? He seemed to read her mind, and chuckled before he spoke, the smile fading.
"Lily—about last night..." he began.
'It was so scary, Sirius," she interrupted, green eyes wide, sounding breathless, "how do you stand it?"
"He's worth it." Sirius replied calmly with a shrug.
"Did you get away from Filch okay?" she asked, curious.
A little lightbulb flicked on in Sirius's head as he nodded. "Was that you who made the crash?" he asked, gaping at her.
She flushed again and nodded.
"I didn't want you getting caught," she admitted.
He mouthed silently at her, and finally managed to say, "What'd you break?"
"That massive vase by the Arithmancy classroom."
He barked a quiet laugh "That big ugly one on the pedestal?" She nodded. "Wow. Well then, did you get away from Filch?"
"No. He—he caught me. I got—"she winced, "sixty points from Gryffindor and detention on Wednesday night.
"Great! I've got mine then too!" he said, jovially clapping her on the shoulder. Then he laughed, "I never thought I'd say that to a Prefect, let alone Lily Evans."
The smile faded from his eyes, leaving them solemn.
"Thank you, Lily. If you wouldn't have done that, we would've been caught for sure, and then all hell would have broken loose. I mean it, I am eternally grateful. You saved us."
She grinned. "Well, I expect you to be my humble servant for all of eternity by way of payment."
"But of course!" he swept his hair gallantly out of his face. But his smile faltered.
Lily touched his arm, concerned.
"What about Remus?" he whispered, afraid his voice would croak if he spoke louder. Lily didn't speak at first. She stared down at her hands, her eyes filling with tears against all efforts. "I—I don't know, Sirius. I really don't." she shuddered. "Do you—do you realize how terrifying it is to be chased by a werewolf down dark corridors and know, at the same time, that under that monster lies a loved one?" Her voice shook, and she was trembling. One glittering tear traced its way down her cheek as Sirius took her hand in both of his, holding tight.
"No, I can't imagine it, Lily. And.. and I'm sorry I couldn't stop him fast enough." He looked crestfallen.
She squeezed his hands back. "No, Sirius! It's not your fault! It's—it's stupid, really, to be afraid of Remus... in... in any form..." She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself as much as Sirius.
"So you aren't frightened of him—erm, as a person?" he asked.
"Of course not!" Lily said briskly, wiping her eyes with her coverlet.
"A warning then, fair damsel" said Black, leaning closer, "Remus will be horribly embarrassed about this whole thing. Don't be surprised if he avoids you. Just know that, in his wolf form, little to none of his human mind remains. If he would have recognized you as Lily, he would not have thought of you as prey, but as one of his pack." He paused, and then added thoughtfully, "As I did."
And with that, he turned to go. Lily stood, no longer caring about her attire. He heard her get up, and turned back again, grey eyes meeting emerald ones. She stepped into his embrace, holding him close.
"Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder. He smelled fresh, like dawn over a spring lake. He released her, holding her body back scant inches from his. For one warm, heart-stopping moment, Lily thought he was going to kiss her. But he just grinned and turned away. She watched the dog make its way down the stone staircase, beams of early sunlight falling across his midnight back as they peeked through the windows, weak in the morning sky. Sirius Black—my angel of comfort, she thought, how ironic. She grinned and went back to bed.
Later that morning, Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily were all sitting down to breakfast; all of them dreading the classes to come due to complete lack of sleep. Remus was still in the hospital wing, not likely to return until noon. They had made plans to visit him during morning break. Sirius was tousle-headed and yawning as he talked with Sarah, who was the only one among them looking well-rested, though she didn't seem to have noticed. Sirius had tried to go back to sleep after his little talk with Lily, but it hadn't worked. Too many worries. He sighed. He was just toying with the idea of skipping their first class, Potions, for a nap when the morning post arrived.
A large, black owl swooped down from the ceiling toward an unsuspecting Sirius. It landed rudely on his plate and he jumped in surprise. Since when do I get mail?? he thought, bemused. But then he recognized the owl. It was the foul, sharp-taloned creature that belonged to his mother. He suddenly felt as though he had tried to swallow an entire package of Ice Mice at once. For in the hellish owl's beak was clamped a scarlet envelope. Bloody hell. He ripped the Howler from the thing's beak, and in his anger cuffed it over the head very violently; causing it to slash his cheek with one steely talon as it took off and rose into the air once more. He winced.
The envelope had begun to smoke. Sirius grabbed a nearby pitcher of pumpkin juice and quickly dropped the Howler inside. Instead of bursting into flames, the thing sent boiling jets of pumpkin juice shooting out at nearby Gryffindors. It emitted a horrible screeching voice. Though slightly muffled and watery-sounding, you could still understand the loud voice. "YOUUU!" it howled, sounding as though the woman screaming had chosen to gargle at the same time, "YOU ABOMINATION, YOU ROGUE! THIS IS A WARNING! I HEARD YOU GOT INTO TROUBLE AGAIN LAST WEEK—YOU HAD BETTER START STUDYING AND EARN SOME O.W.L.'S! DON'T YOU DARE BRING SHAME ON THE ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK! OR ELSE!!" Sirius, unblushing, was now grimacing at the now-steaming juice, watching as the envelope tore itself into shreds and floated, disintegrating, to the surface of the pitcher.
"My lovely mum," he muttered to Sarah, "glad you were introduced." Sarah looked shocked, but she left her seat at the Ravenclaw table to squeeze in next to Sirius, putting an arm around his waist comfortingly.
The noise in the Hall regained its usual level, but there was uproarious laughter from the Slytherin table. Sirius turned round to look, seeking out one boy in the midst of the gales of mirth. He met the eyes of his elder brother, Regulus, and hate poured from them as he smirked. Regulus was taller and burlier than Sirius, and, though not as handsome, had the arm of the prettiest girl in Slytherin (which is really not saying much) entwined with his own. Regulus smirked at his little brother, and Sirius made a very rude hand gesture in his direction.
Sarah glared at the haughty Slytherin as well, but then turned and flipped her hair back, resting her head on Sirius's shoulder and turning away from them.
"You should come live with me and mum this summer, Sirius." she said softly into his neck. His stomach flipped and his pulse quickened at the feel of her breath on his skin. He wrapped his arm around her and replied, trying to grin. "I doubt she would approve. Besides, I think I'm staying at the Potter's."
She laughed, teasing "Oh, as if you couldn't charm mum senseless in about a minute—"
She kissed his cheek and made as if to stand, but he pulled her back down next to him and pulled her to him again, kissing her lips gently. She shivered with a quiet delight and rejoined her table before a teacher could spot them.
James, too, was sympathetic—though not particularly surprised. He had heard too many stories of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to be shocked by a Howler. He could sense that Sirius was more hurt by this blatant dislike than he would let on. James caught his eye from across the table after Sarah had gone to sit down. Sirius grimaced again, meeting James's hazel eyes. Sirius slipped into his dog state of mind just enough to mind-speak with James: I told you that she was a bitch. Why me, Prongs?
James caught on, replying, Couldn't tell you, mate. Oh well. Just kip at my place this summer.
Sirius frowned slightly. If they'll release me from my floor-washing duties at Hell's Manor.
James laughed sadly. We'll make them.
He broke the connection, and the two friends slipped back to their human minds once more.
After Potions class that day (which Sirius had decided against skiving off, but slept through instead), came double Arithmancy; another class with Ravenclaw. Sirius was a bit more awake than he had been upon the arrival of the Howler that morning, and it was weighing on his mind. Thoughts of his home were haunting his every step, his mother's spiteful voice echoing through his mind. He entered the classroom preoccupied, only pausing to admire the empty pedestal where a certain vase had stood just the day before. He took a seat in the back, dragging his book out of his bag in a bored kind of way, and waited for Sarah.
She breezed into the room, a small smile playing across her red-tinged lips. To Sirius, it seemed as if time had frozen her; capturing this glorious girl in one moment. He admired the way she lit up the room, dark hair frozen in the act of swinging out behind her as she skipped eagerly toward the desk beside his. Her blue eyes were warm and her whole being seemed to sparkle with life. And suddenly, he flt an overwhelming need to do more than know her, more than claim her mouth with his own. He wanted something more profound, wanted to make her feel like the beauty she was.
It was hard to grasp—a thousand images rushing through his, passing out of thought and time. He wanted to watch the sun rise with her every morning, wanted to watch it sink to the edge of the world every night with her in his arms; he wanted to dance with her on an empty stage, just the two of them in the whole world, two souls dancing to the music of the universe, knowing as she pressed up against him and their feet shuffled the dusty floor that none of it—nothing! mattered as long as they had eachother. And he knew then, all of a sudden, that this was love.