It was like a time repeating itself – an almost perfect mirror image of
the same scene of a few months before, exact but for the lack of frost on
the grass. Raq and Moony were walking across the grounds, steam rising from
the vaporising dew at their bare feet in the early warmth.
It had been an emotionally exhausting night for both of them, but Raq most of all. There had been no hunting and she felt rather guilty about not warning her mate of what a sombre night it would be under the full moon's light. In all his years as a werewolf Remus had never even thought of the depth of feeling that the wolf inside had given him, and that others felt it too.
The moment he had entered the clearing he had sensed it. There was none of the normal high spirits and good-natured play fights that were the normal precursor to a full moon hunt. Everywhere he looked he saw the Lupuscans sitting in quiet contemplation or binding dried grass and herbs to poles. He looked around for Saiph and eventually saw him walking towards the camp through the trees. Raq hurried over to him and held him in a comforting embrace. Even from a distance Moony could see the rivulets in his face fur formed by countless tears and he wondered what sort of a night he was in for.
Ice handed a rough torch to each of his leaders and to anyone who could hold one. In a singular movement all dipped the grassy ends into the flames of the cooking fire and all caught light at once. The scent of the herbs that had been added crept sweetly into their sensitive nostrils as Saiph motioned that the party should move off.
Remus was taken deeper into the forest than he had ever been before. The wolves walked in silence, with only the odd sniffing back of tears to break the absolute peace, torches leading the way like great guiding stars in the darkness of the benighted forest. He found himself walking alongside Faol, the black wolf, whose usually tough façade was being thoroughly betrayed by the bulging muscles at the sides of his tightly locked jaw in a desperate effort to maintain his composure. In all his years as a werewolf he would never have believed he would be part of such an occasion and that his killer instinct would be so thoroughly controlled.
Upon reaching a new clearing he noticed several stone cairns that had been recently and meticulously decorated with flowers, feathers and other trinkets such as carved pieces of bone and coloured pebbles. Raq and Saiph stood at the head of two cairns which had been given special attention, but the left one more so, the one that Saiph stood behind. They placed their torches in the ground and began a quiet, wordless chant. The rhythm was picked up by the whole pack until it began to have a life of its own. Moony felt himself drawn into the song and was unaware of when the alpha external subtly directed the lament until it soared to the sky. He took out his pipe and played. In his skilled paws his pipe became a magical instrument that transported his pack into a deeper realm of hidden memories. He was a master of his art, but he owed it all to the one he had brought his pack to honour.
Tears rolled down every cheek at the sadness they felt, although only few had known Colvarn when he lived but his life had influenced all of theirs. Silvery tears fell on the final resting place of the true Lord of the Woods next to his erstwhile partner whose cairn was empty for she had fallen outside of the woods and her body lay elsewhere, but as alpha she had shared equal tribute.
Such remembrances of their dead brought the pack closer as a whole and Saiph's tearful speech explaining who Colvarn and his partner were hit every one of them with great force and even those who had never met him felt part of his legacy living within all of them and left Moony with a deeper understanding of himself than ever before.
But once the mourners had gone someone who was no stranger crept into that sacred place and dismantled one of the carefully decorated graves and left after paying homage to the true Lord of the Woods.
Hand in hand Raq and Moony walked in an exhausted but contented silence through the half light of dawn.
'What's that?' Something blue in colour was wedged in the hollow between two huge tree roots. It's colour swirled and shimmered oddly, like oil on water.
A head emerged from the iridescent mass – a canine head bisected by a black stripe with two cross stripes on her muzzle and an identical white flash underneath each sleep-glazed eye.
'It's Storm!'
An ostrich feather tail flopped feebly through the loam and deeply hooded eyes looked groggily up at them from her comfortable nest in the hollow bowels of the old tree, it's branches spreading above her like protective arms.
'Come on you. Albus has been worried about you. You're coming back with us.'
Storm yawned widely, showing off her long white teeth, and shook the leaf mould off her thick coat. She stretched her cramped legs luxuriantly before grudgingly following their languid pace. She was a little surprised to see Remus with Diana, but not as shocked as others would have been. She should have seen it coming. The time was drawing near now.
'Did you say something?'
Remus looked at her, puzzled, 'Sorry?'
'I thought I heard someone say something.'
'I didn't hear...'
Raq hissed furiously at him, 'There! Hear it?'
Moony listened hard but eventually shook his head, 'What did it say?'
'Show your colours, Raq, show your colours.'
'What does that mean?'
'I don't know, it doesn't make sense.'
They walked in frustrated silence, Raq quarrelling with the alien voice in her head telling her things that she had forgotten and things she never knew. At one point her whole face tightened with an undisclosed emotion.
'What is it?
'Nothing, don't worry.'
But Remus did worry, he worried a lot. Hearing voices was never a good sign and he was concerned that Raq was overworked. Her job was far more than just flying instructor and quidditch coach – as alpha internal of the Lupuscan Circle she had responsibilities to make sure that life among the pack ran smoothly, but hidden. If anyone ever found out about their existence the consequences didn't bear thinking about.
Raq would lose her job, but that was the least of her worries. Remus knew only too well how hard it was for a werewolf to make their way in the world, but to have the name Lupuscan tied to them, especially the youngsters, would make life nearly impossible for them.
He was only just beginning to understand the Lupuscans – mainly made up of those who felt the wolf inside of them and craved for an expression of their 'true' personality with the odd scattering of involuntary werewolves like him – but he admired their courage to be different.
They couldn't help being born different with only a vague understanding of what they were. Their unusualness often made them outcasts until Lupus called and taught them about themselves. That was the one and only reason why the Lupuscan Circle had been formed and was still Lupus's main task – to educate her followers in the ways of the pack.
Storm tagged along behind them and followed the proceedings with deaf ears, flat eyes and an odd, self-satisfied grin on her inward-looking face before scratching out a loose clump of fur from her neck and shook herself back to reality watching the long hairs float away on the gentle summer breeze. She hated moulting.
Raq and Storm slipped into the Great Hall unnoticed. Both had a ravenous appetite and were looking to sate it on the delicious things that sent out so many mouth-watering scents.
Storm had not eaten at all yesterday, combined with her huge physical exertion in swimming the lake and running back made her stomach growl with unprecedented force, even with all of her experience of punishment starvation at the hands of Lucius Malfoy she didn't think she'd ever felt this hungry.
Slipping under the Gryffindor table, she crept through the rows of legs until she found one with a very familiar scent. Nudging them, she hoped that their owner would be sharp enough to understand what she wanted.
Harry jumped when he felt a cold, wet nose push up against his legs. He looked beneath the table to see Storm looking up and him and wagging her tail appealingly. He caught on immediately and started passing rashers of bacon, pieces of toast and sausages under the table where they were gone almost before they touched her mouth.
Hermione noticed how much Harry was eating and looked at him with mild bewilderment before observing his hand regularly disappearing under the table with food in it and returning empty. She looked down to see Storm licking her lips as another sausage passed smoothly down into her gullet. Soon Storm had two people feeding her and blessed her wolfish stomach that seemed able to take in amazing quantities of food without any adverse after effects apart from needing a good sleep. All that was offered passed gratefully into her amazing expandable stomach.
A huge flock of owls swooped into the Hall carrying the morning mail. Hermione put a knut into the news owl's pouch before it flew away. Harry was disappointed to see no more letters from Sirius, but his disappointment was soon alleviated but the look of Snape's face as he unrolled a brightly coloured magazine with a bold title that proudly declared 'Potion Making for the Magically Impaired: A Beginners Guide'.
Half the students had noticed, Snape getting post was a rare enough occurrence, but Snape getting this sort of thing was hilarious. Nudges and grins passed around to those who hadn't noticed until nearly everyone was looking at the Potions Master with badly hidden giggles and smirks.
Snape looked furiously round for the culprit, but it could have been any one of them. He then slyly glanced at the Staff table to only find barely suppressed mirth erupting on every face. He slammed the magazine down on his plate, splashing most of its contents onto his robe and causing a further outbreak of cough-covered laughs, before storming out of the Hall.
As soon as he'd gone three of the House tables let go and their snorts and chuckles were a long time in stopping. Storm had watched the proceedings with the utmost delight and was now rolling around on the floor holding her sides.
The culprit of the incident had gone completely undetected and was now planning the next stunt.
It had been an emotionally exhausting night for both of them, but Raq most of all. There had been no hunting and she felt rather guilty about not warning her mate of what a sombre night it would be under the full moon's light. In all his years as a werewolf Remus had never even thought of the depth of feeling that the wolf inside had given him, and that others felt it too.
The moment he had entered the clearing he had sensed it. There was none of the normal high spirits and good-natured play fights that were the normal precursor to a full moon hunt. Everywhere he looked he saw the Lupuscans sitting in quiet contemplation or binding dried grass and herbs to poles. He looked around for Saiph and eventually saw him walking towards the camp through the trees. Raq hurried over to him and held him in a comforting embrace. Even from a distance Moony could see the rivulets in his face fur formed by countless tears and he wondered what sort of a night he was in for.
Ice handed a rough torch to each of his leaders and to anyone who could hold one. In a singular movement all dipped the grassy ends into the flames of the cooking fire and all caught light at once. The scent of the herbs that had been added crept sweetly into their sensitive nostrils as Saiph motioned that the party should move off.
Remus was taken deeper into the forest than he had ever been before. The wolves walked in silence, with only the odd sniffing back of tears to break the absolute peace, torches leading the way like great guiding stars in the darkness of the benighted forest. He found himself walking alongside Faol, the black wolf, whose usually tough façade was being thoroughly betrayed by the bulging muscles at the sides of his tightly locked jaw in a desperate effort to maintain his composure. In all his years as a werewolf he would never have believed he would be part of such an occasion and that his killer instinct would be so thoroughly controlled.
Upon reaching a new clearing he noticed several stone cairns that had been recently and meticulously decorated with flowers, feathers and other trinkets such as carved pieces of bone and coloured pebbles. Raq and Saiph stood at the head of two cairns which had been given special attention, but the left one more so, the one that Saiph stood behind. They placed their torches in the ground and began a quiet, wordless chant. The rhythm was picked up by the whole pack until it began to have a life of its own. Moony felt himself drawn into the song and was unaware of when the alpha external subtly directed the lament until it soared to the sky. He took out his pipe and played. In his skilled paws his pipe became a magical instrument that transported his pack into a deeper realm of hidden memories. He was a master of his art, but he owed it all to the one he had brought his pack to honour.
Tears rolled down every cheek at the sadness they felt, although only few had known Colvarn when he lived but his life had influenced all of theirs. Silvery tears fell on the final resting place of the true Lord of the Woods next to his erstwhile partner whose cairn was empty for she had fallen outside of the woods and her body lay elsewhere, but as alpha she had shared equal tribute.
Such remembrances of their dead brought the pack closer as a whole and Saiph's tearful speech explaining who Colvarn and his partner were hit every one of them with great force and even those who had never met him felt part of his legacy living within all of them and left Moony with a deeper understanding of himself than ever before.
But once the mourners had gone someone who was no stranger crept into that sacred place and dismantled one of the carefully decorated graves and left after paying homage to the true Lord of the Woods.
Hand in hand Raq and Moony walked in an exhausted but contented silence through the half light of dawn.
'What's that?' Something blue in colour was wedged in the hollow between two huge tree roots. It's colour swirled and shimmered oddly, like oil on water.
A head emerged from the iridescent mass – a canine head bisected by a black stripe with two cross stripes on her muzzle and an identical white flash underneath each sleep-glazed eye.
'It's Storm!'
An ostrich feather tail flopped feebly through the loam and deeply hooded eyes looked groggily up at them from her comfortable nest in the hollow bowels of the old tree, it's branches spreading above her like protective arms.
'Come on you. Albus has been worried about you. You're coming back with us.'
Storm yawned widely, showing off her long white teeth, and shook the leaf mould off her thick coat. She stretched her cramped legs luxuriantly before grudgingly following their languid pace. She was a little surprised to see Remus with Diana, but not as shocked as others would have been. She should have seen it coming. The time was drawing near now.
'Did you say something?'
Remus looked at her, puzzled, 'Sorry?'
'I thought I heard someone say something.'
'I didn't hear...'
Raq hissed furiously at him, 'There! Hear it?'
Moony listened hard but eventually shook his head, 'What did it say?'
'Show your colours, Raq, show your colours.'
'What does that mean?'
'I don't know, it doesn't make sense.'
They walked in frustrated silence, Raq quarrelling with the alien voice in her head telling her things that she had forgotten and things she never knew. At one point her whole face tightened with an undisclosed emotion.
'What is it?
'Nothing, don't worry.'
But Remus did worry, he worried a lot. Hearing voices was never a good sign and he was concerned that Raq was overworked. Her job was far more than just flying instructor and quidditch coach – as alpha internal of the Lupuscan Circle she had responsibilities to make sure that life among the pack ran smoothly, but hidden. If anyone ever found out about their existence the consequences didn't bear thinking about.
Raq would lose her job, but that was the least of her worries. Remus knew only too well how hard it was for a werewolf to make their way in the world, but to have the name Lupuscan tied to them, especially the youngsters, would make life nearly impossible for them.
He was only just beginning to understand the Lupuscans – mainly made up of those who felt the wolf inside of them and craved for an expression of their 'true' personality with the odd scattering of involuntary werewolves like him – but he admired their courage to be different.
They couldn't help being born different with only a vague understanding of what they were. Their unusualness often made them outcasts until Lupus called and taught them about themselves. That was the one and only reason why the Lupuscan Circle had been formed and was still Lupus's main task – to educate her followers in the ways of the pack.
Storm tagged along behind them and followed the proceedings with deaf ears, flat eyes and an odd, self-satisfied grin on her inward-looking face before scratching out a loose clump of fur from her neck and shook herself back to reality watching the long hairs float away on the gentle summer breeze. She hated moulting.
Raq and Storm slipped into the Great Hall unnoticed. Both had a ravenous appetite and were looking to sate it on the delicious things that sent out so many mouth-watering scents.
Storm had not eaten at all yesterday, combined with her huge physical exertion in swimming the lake and running back made her stomach growl with unprecedented force, even with all of her experience of punishment starvation at the hands of Lucius Malfoy she didn't think she'd ever felt this hungry.
Slipping under the Gryffindor table, she crept through the rows of legs until she found one with a very familiar scent. Nudging them, she hoped that their owner would be sharp enough to understand what she wanted.
Harry jumped when he felt a cold, wet nose push up against his legs. He looked beneath the table to see Storm looking up and him and wagging her tail appealingly. He caught on immediately and started passing rashers of bacon, pieces of toast and sausages under the table where they were gone almost before they touched her mouth.
Hermione noticed how much Harry was eating and looked at him with mild bewilderment before observing his hand regularly disappearing under the table with food in it and returning empty. She looked down to see Storm licking her lips as another sausage passed smoothly down into her gullet. Soon Storm had two people feeding her and blessed her wolfish stomach that seemed able to take in amazing quantities of food without any adverse after effects apart from needing a good sleep. All that was offered passed gratefully into her amazing expandable stomach.
A huge flock of owls swooped into the Hall carrying the morning mail. Hermione put a knut into the news owl's pouch before it flew away. Harry was disappointed to see no more letters from Sirius, but his disappointment was soon alleviated but the look of Snape's face as he unrolled a brightly coloured magazine with a bold title that proudly declared 'Potion Making for the Magically Impaired: A Beginners Guide'.
Half the students had noticed, Snape getting post was a rare enough occurrence, but Snape getting this sort of thing was hilarious. Nudges and grins passed around to those who hadn't noticed until nearly everyone was looking at the Potions Master with badly hidden giggles and smirks.
Snape looked furiously round for the culprit, but it could have been any one of them. He then slyly glanced at the Staff table to only find barely suppressed mirth erupting on every face. He slammed the magazine down on his plate, splashing most of its contents onto his robe and causing a further outbreak of cough-covered laughs, before storming out of the Hall.
As soon as he'd gone three of the House tables let go and their snorts and chuckles were a long time in stopping. Storm had watched the proceedings with the utmost delight and was now rolling around on the floor holding her sides.
The culprit of the incident had gone completely undetected and was now planning the next stunt.