A loud 'pop' sounded through the otherwise quiet air, as Nymphadora Tonks Apparated out of nowhere.
She was running late. Snape would kill her. Dumbledore would kill her. Remus would quite possibly and honestly kill her - or worse - if she didn't hurry up. The sky was just about dark, and the moon... she looked to the horizon as she hurried across the Hogwarts grounds. It hadn't risen yet, thank the gods. She picked up her pace towards the Whomping Willow, very carefully covering the pocket which held a very important potion within. She guessed she still had five minutes. 'Please, don't let me fall over and hurt myself, or break this damn vial. Please, don't let me get bludgeoned into oblivion by the Willow. Please, don't let me be late.'
She almost wished that Snape was available to deliver this potion, but seeing as he was away on an important mission, Dumbledore had asked her to go in his stead. 'Almost,' she thought, filled with near overwhelming curiosity with regards to her friend's condition. But more than the curiosity she had always held for Remus, now that they had become close, she worried for him. She knew the torment he would go through if she didn't get the Wolfsbane to him. She didn't want that to be her fault.
There was the Whomping Willow. Summoning her nerve, she stepped closer and pointed her wand, yelling "Immobulus!" This slowed the Willow considerably, allowing her to sneak in close and prod a knot in one of the roots hard with her fingers. The tree froze completely, and, relieved, Tonks slipped down through the hole in the ground near the knot, and dropped down to the underground passageway. It was much darker down here. "Lumos," she whispered, not entirely sure why she felt she had to be quiet. With only a moment's hesitation, she hurried off down the passageway towards the Shrieking Shack.
Outside, the moon peeked its silver head over the horizon.
-
Finally Tonks, running now, reached the Shrieking Shack. After whispering "nox," to put out the light from her wand, she hurried up the stairs, calling for Remus. She came to a bedroom, occupied by a large, dusty and somewhat damaged four poster, the drapings ripped to dirty streamers. A figure lay on the bed, trying to prop itself up, looking at her. "Wotcher," Tonks whispered with a grin, relieved she wasn't too late for her friend.
"Tonks," Remus whispered, and she thought she saw horror in his eyes. "You're late."
"I know, I know," she said, hurrying into the room, reaching into her pocket. She ignored Remus, who was weakly moaning 'no, no, get out,' and instead tried to say lightly, "you look like you've been run over a couple of times, Lupin." In fact, how terrible her friend looked was horrifying. "No, Tonks, no. Get out. Get out." Remus was moaning weakly, vaguely thrashing about on the bed in his efforts to wave her out of the room. "You're too late."
Tonks stopped. "What do you mean I'm too late? I have the Wolfsbane right here, and..." she trailed off, suddenly realising her shadow across the bed and along the wall. Remus' body had gone rigid, and he was shaking. "Oh, gods," she whispered, whirling about to see the moon through the window. She turned back to Remus. "I'm too late." The vial of Wolfsbane dropped from nerveless fingers, the glass shattering on the floor.
"Get out." Remus growled through clenched teeth. Tonks hesitated. "NOW!" Remus roared, clutching at his head. Tonks saw fur growing along the back of his hands. She gave a slight scream of horror, and fled from the room.
She had just reached the bottom of the stairs when a loud howl from upstairs turned her blood cold. She ran without reserve now, trying to get out of the house, back through the passage, terrified of that howl. The howl of a beast. She knew that there was nothing of her friend left tonight, and that the wolf would kill her if given the chance.
The floorboards were uneven, and she tripped when she reached the cellar again, cursing her constant clumsiness. She could hear the wolf, upstairs still, ripping things, smashing. 'It can smell me,' she thought, frozen with fear. 'It can smell a human, and it wants to kill me.' She forced herself to get to her feet, as another howl sounded from upstairs. She could hear the stairs creaking in rapid succession.
The wolf was coming for her.
She ran blindly in the dark passage. Her mind was screaming at her not to fall, or she would die, or worse. That the wolf would bite her, rip her to pieces, and Remus would be locked away, sent to Azkaban, and then who would look after Harry? Remus held it so high that now he was the last of his friends he would protect Harry - what would happen to the boy if Remus killed her, if he bit her, ripped her to pieces, if he got himself locked away? Wildly she thought of Sirius' death so soon after his escape from Azkaban, poor Remus, how Sirius got out from the prison by slipping past the guards in his animagus form...
She stopped in shock, though some part of her mind screamed at her not to pause. That was it! She could change herself, she wasn't an animagus but she WAS a metamorphmagus. She might not be able to become a full animal, harmless to a werewolf, but it might be enough to stop the wolf from wanting to...
She shook her head. She needed to think clearly now - surely the wolf was in the passage by now, coming after her. She screwed her eyes closed and her nose wrinkled. And she thought hard about what the wolf might look like. Long snout, hair everywhere, tall, hunched shoulders, a huge spine, a tail...
She held back a scream as her mind whitened with the pain that overcame her. It was excrutiating, and she almost stopped the transformation. But she had to do it or Remus would kill her, so she forced herself to keep going. The changes in her body were so painful she thought she might pass out, but somehow she held on, swaying on her feet.
It was done. She skulked back to the Shrieking Shack's cellar, checking for a window. When the wolf came, she was ready for him.
She could see he was confused - she smelt like a human but also like an animal. He growled at her, territorial and dominating, and in a panic Tonks, in her new form which was a horrible parody of the werewolf in front of her, ran at the wolf and knocked him to the ground. Both struggled furiously, the wolf to get up and attack, furious that this female beast was challenging him, Tonks to keep the wolf at bay and unable to hurt anybody, including herself.
It went on for hours. Finally though, the wolf collapsed beneath Tonks, not giving up and admitting defeat, but rather too exhausted to do anything more about it. His breath came out in short pants, his eyes gradually closing...
Tonks was exhausted, too, but she wouldn't allow herself to sleep. The hours until dawn were going to stretch out endlessly, she knew, but if the wolf woke up she had to be ready for it. She didn't move, thinking it best to keep the wolf beneath her so she could pin him down if he did wake. She rested her wolf-like head down on the male's chest, so tired, and waited.