A/N: Thank you for all of the great reviews. I love hearing what people think, and if you find any mistakes or problems don't hesitate to let me know. That's the only way I'll improve!
Disclaimer: Pirates, ye be warned.
Chapter Twenty-seven –
Fawkes
The pack's evening games had to be abandoned in favour of nursing each other's bruises or painfully shredded skin.
Moony lay despondent and weak on the small circular carpet near the desk in the study, where they had all come to groom themselves out of their misery. Sidetrack was busy licking the non-responsive werewolf's bloodied neck, and Greymane worried about the depth of some of the cuts. He had remembered slashing his claws at the wolf as he tried to push his friend back into the kitchen. At the time, he hadn't been thinking about Moony's comfort. The lion seemed to have just taken control of him, and protected Mundungus the way he was built to. Now he felt awfully guilty.
Wrinkles had curled up into the werewolf's side, and was contentedly snoring in Moony's ear, one paw tucked carefully around his squeaky toad.
Next time we put a sign on the door. Greymane grumbled, absentmindedly licking Sabertooth's injured shoulder, which was matted with drying blood. Werewolf on the loose! Do not enter!
No. It sounds too much like the way the French people label werewolves. Sabertooth commented. They make people like Moony put up a sign saying, 'ici le maison d'un loup-garou.' I think it's just rude to generalize that way.
I didn't mean it that way. Harry felt chastised. Are you all right? He asked.
My cheek hurts. I'm going to have a black eye in the morning. I think the most painful part though is the scratches on my paws, I really can't put my feet down.
He's got sharp claws doesn't he? Greymane commented, looking at his own slashed chest and arms, then over to Moony's decrepit-looking form.
Sabertooth also looked at the bloody mass on the lion's chest, and bent her head to lick at it. It stung, but for some reason, Greymane was willing to endure the attention. It felt very natural to want the blood gone from the wound. Also, on the occasion that she missed the cut with her leathery tongue, the massaging quality of the motion was very pleasant. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that there might be another reason for his pleasure, but he dismissed it. That was a human reason, so it had no true bearing on the here and now.
Stupid Mundungus. Didn't he know not to come here tonight? Greymane mused, trying to take his mind off the tiger licking his wounds.
I could have acted as sentry. Crookshanks meowed, walking in the door. Next time, let me know, and I will do so.
Sabertooth purred. That's very noble of you. Are you sure you have a good way of distracting a person?
Crookshanks gave a very good impression of a haughty shrug. Male cats are well known for their vocal habits at night. I couldn't get someone to leave, but I could make it very clear that they were not welcome. I am intelligent enough to know when someone should not be there. Have no fear, I will protect this pack. It is my duty.
It had become obvious that Crookshanks not only thought himself another part of their group, he also made it quite clear that from now on, he was to be considered the alpha male.
Greymane and Sabertooth purred their laughter at their new packmate.
What? Crookshanks hissed haughtily, his fur sticking up in a threatening mohawk down his back. You think me incapable? I have far more experience as a cat than either of you do. Do not mock me, or you may suffer my impressionable wrath.
They didn't dare make another sound. Despite his size, Crookshanks didn't look like a cat to be trifled with. They also remembered the shredded material of Mundungus Fletcher's trousers all too clearly.
Greymane observed the scene of the pack cautiously. The owls seemed to be conversing quietly in the corner, and Stickyfoot had come to rest on the top of the desk. She was apparently taking part in a wild little gecko experiment of her own, because she had tipped over a bottle of ink, and was methodically tracking the wet black footprints across the top of a blank piece of parchment, making sure to include whippy tail marks.
A loud cracking sound and a horrible groan of pain pulled him back over the sight of Remus, who was now very human, and rolling onto his back to stare vacantly at the bottom of the desk.
The full moon must have gone below the horizon.
The rest of the pack changed back into their bruised and bleeding human forms too, and went immediately to see to their broken friend. Harry felt awful. Most of the gashes Remus now bore across his chest, face and arms, Harry had remembered putting there. It was because of him that his tutor now had to suffer so much pain.
"Remus, you need to get into a bed." Ginny said, taking the man's hand carefully in her own lacerated palms. "You need to get up. Can you do that?" Remus winced and attempted to pull his hand out of hers. Ginny then noticed that three of Remus' fingernails on that hand were torn and bleeding and she held his hand even more carefully. Harry cringed at the sight, and reflexively checked his own chipped and bruised nails.
Remus mumbled that yes he could stand, and Harry and Ron moved forward to help prop him up from behind, cautious of the many gashes on his arms and sides.
"I'm sorry." Remus said to Harry, looking forlornly at the boy's torn robes and the mangled skin on his half-bared chest.
"Don't think on it Moony, it's just a few scratches. Besides," he said grinning for his tutor's sake, "I think I'm still feeling a bit woozy from that catnip. I don't feel them at all."
Remus chuckled, and Harry felt a little better about everything.
"We're going to fly out and get some help." Hermione called. "I'll get Dumbledore. I'll also pay a little visit to our friend Mundungus Fletcher while I'm at it. Hedwig and Pig have told me they'll lead the way."
"All right. We'll take care of things here, and see you later." Harry called, supporting Remus towards the door, and out into his bedroom.
Hermione smiled wryly, and changed herself into Eyespy. She and the other two owls fluttered out the window into the darkened early morning haze.
Ron chuckled once Hermione had gone. "She'll be more effective than sending a howler."
Remus laughed and winced. "Then I pity the poor sod."
0 0 0 0 0
Sure enough, Hermione came through in blazing colours. Dumbledore and Fawkes paid a visit to Grimmauld place only half-an-hour after Eyespy had gone.
Fawkes the phoenix flew immediately over to Remus, who was fast asleep, and looking greener than Harry had ever seen him. They'd done what they could to bind his wounds, but the blood still seeped out through the bandages. Fawkes lowered his head to each one as they were slowly removed by Harry, and he cried a few healing tears onto the sleeping man's wounds. The bruises were still prominent, but at least the horrible scratches were gone, and the bruising would fade with time.
Fawkes moved on to the rest of the pack in the next room, crying tears into their cuts, and singing clear notes of phoenix song to heal their heavy hearts. He was able to heal Harry's chest wound quite well, with hardly any trace of scarring. It made Harry wonder how bad the cut on his forehead had been when he was a baby to leave such a scar. He also had to wonder if Fawkes had cried over him as a child to see if he could mend the curse scar.
Harry gave Fawkes an extra pat of thanks and the bird trilled and flew back over to Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry subconsciously fingered the wand in his pocket. The core was one of Fawkes' feathers, and ironically its only brother wand belonged to Voldemort. No one in the room other than Dumbledore knew this, and Harry really didn't feel that they needed to. Sirius had known, but as far as Harry knew, he'd never told anyone.
Dumbledore jokingly warned them to keep quiet to Mr.and Mrs. Weasley if they truly valued Remus' life. Harry personally didn't think it much of a joke, but he laughed along with his headmaster. Apparently Dumbledore had informed the Weasleys that everyone was too exhausted after the evening's games that they just didn't want any visitors.
They showed him Ravenclaw's book, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled excitedly at their unique find. They explained to him that only some people could open it, and he seemed just as confused as everyone else in this respect.
The book opened for him, but he decided not to read it, saying the spine needed to be properly oiled, so that the book wouldn't fall apart. He handed it back, telling them to take it to Madam Pince. Ron explained that they had already planned to do so, and when she had finished making the book readable, they would bring it to him to peruse. Harry reluctantly agreed, even though he had asked to be the first to read it.
Dumbledore then left, promising that he would be back later that afternoon to see how things were progressing.
Only ten minutes after Dumbledore and Fawkes' departure, the doorbell rang, and Harry rushed down the stairs to answer it.
A very nervous-looking Mundungus Fletcher stood on the front stoop, and he flinched heavily when the door opened, looking frantically over Harry's shoulder as if a werewolf might still be hiding there. He had terribly mussed ginger hair and dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't yet changed his trousers, and the slashed material showed a few bloody scratches. He also had a few noticeable scratches and peck marks on his face from the three owls last night.
"Are all them animals gorn?" He asked nervously, looking over Harry's shoulder again. "Last night, I come in 'ere, and next I know, I'm being attacked by a ruddy zoo. I saw our Mr. Lupin and all in the middle, and I realized I'd been a dunderhead and forgot all about the moon and such. I've come to apologize. Is 'e in?"
"He's here." Said Harry insolently. "He's not happy with you right now, and neither am I."
"Yeah. Your friend told me."
"You mean Hermione?"
"She banged into me apartment at some unholy hour this mornin' and started shakin' me awake. She wos screamin' all about how I ought to be ashamed to have forgotten about Mr. Lupin, and that he was hurt and it was all my fault. She's got a right set of pipes, that one. Don't know how she bloody found me this morning either."
"So you came back here to apologize because Hermione told you to?"
"She told me I 'ad to give it a go, or she'd pickle my toes. I thought she coulda' done it too." Mundungus nodded, shuddering at the thought.
Harry was gradually getting angrier the more he heard the man speak. He had no choice but to let him into the hall, but the moment the door was shut Harry rounded on him.
"You don't seem to realize the damage you've caused!" He yelled. "Remus was mortified! The only reason you're safe right now is because of us! From now on, think hard about your actions, and keep your eye on the full moon! What you did last night was selfish and stupid!"
Mundungus winced at Harry's volume, and clutched at his head. "Yes, I know. I've already had the lecture from miss Granger, and at twice the volume come to that. Could you possibly keep it down? I've got a bit of a headache."
"I'll give you a headache!" Ginny yelled from the top of the stairs. She was no longer limping, but her eye was slowly turning a bright shade of plum. She looked quite a bit like her mother as she berated the man and tromped down the steps. "Next time knock!" She said, brandishing a fist. "I nearly bit you myself last night! And trust me when I say it would have been much worse than if we'd let Moony get to you!"
Mundungus' jaw dropped, and he pointed shakily to the girl shaking her fist at him. "Bless my boots! You were the tiger!" He backed away in fear.
"That's right, and I suggest that you don't mention it to anyone else, or you can expect me to forget that you're on our side the next time I become one."
At that moment, three owls fluttered down the flight of stairs, and Hermione landed on human feet, glaring at Mundungus.
"What?!" Yelled Mundungus, obviously terrified, backing up against the door like a cornered rat. "Is they both people too?" He asked, pointing to the two glaring owls sitting on the banister.
Hermione put her hands on her hips, looking quite like professor McGonagall. "No, but they've asked me to tell you that they think what hair you still have tastes a bit like worms, and not much prompting would set them on it again."
"Hello, Mundungus." Luna called serenely from the top of the first flight of stairs, interrupting the lecture. "Remus is awake, and feeling better. He'd like to see everyone."
The three of them scrambled up the stairs, paying no attention to Mundungus, who ambled nervously behind, muttering under his breath.
They walked into the darkened room to see Remus sitting up in bed, looking wan. "Hello Dung." He said quietly. "You all right?"
"Beggin' your pardon Remus, I wos havin' a bit of drink last night, and I forgot about the moon. You can rest easy knowin' I won't be doing it again." He shuddered, and looked at his scuffed boots. "It's a good thing you 'ad your animal friends over. I hope you aren't feeling too off this morning."
Remus smiled wryly. "I'm a little more sore than I usually am. Some bruises, but Dumbledore and Fawkes came by this morning, and healed my cuts."
Mundungus looked even more horrified. "Well... erm... tha's good to hear."
"Yeah, speaking of bruises," Ron said, rubbing at his tender behind, "what did you have to go and throw me off the stairs for Remus?"
0 0 0 0 0
Needless to say, no one told Molly and Arthur anything about what had happened the night of the Christmas full moon. They did notice Ginny's black eye, but before they could yell at Remus, she told them she had accidentally run into a shelf. In fact she had run into a shelf, she just neglected to mention that it was a blood frenzied werewolf who had thrown her in the direction of the aforementioned shelf.
They had to explain about how active they had been through the night, because all of them were bruised and aching in some form or another. Ron refused to sit down for two days because of his tender posterior, and Neville had a large purple spot in the middle of his forehead from where he had run into the wall. Luna only smiled when people asked her about the massive ink stains she still had, and explained that she had wanted to see how geckos wrote.
Remus himself was bedridden for nearly three days, and to explain his absence they had to really over-emphasize the amount of fun they'd had.
Hermione had gotten into a bit of trouble from her parents for ignoring her promise to arrive at her uncle's house first thing Christmas morning. She'd just had to tell them that a friend had suddenly taken ill, and she'd needed to be nearby. Her parents were furious that after so long of not seeing her, that she would put her family commitments second. She'd been very upset with their disapproval, and ended up spending the rest of the week with them to make up for it.
Molly had to suspect something what with everyone being so off, but everyone was giving her the same story, so she couldn't very well say they were all lying to her.
By the time New Years Eve rolled around, everyone was back into the normal swing of things, and Harry was able to take lessons with Remus again.
"Alright, bring the pensieve over here." Remus asked, and Harry placed the bowl on the desk. There were already a few strands of thoughts floating around in the bowl, as Harry had discovered over the past week that he could leave them there if he wanted, as a sort of journal of important events. He'd recently put in quite a few of his happiest memories in an attempt to improve on his patronus casting, and to work on emotional analysis.
"Alright, are you willing to show me the images of the Hogsmeade hunt?"
Harry blanched. "Are you sure? I mean... Wormtail..." he trailed off, his meaning quite clear.
Remus shook his head, looking unperturbed. "We need to analyze your fighting strategy, so we can see where you might improve. The fact that Peter was there and that it was likely his last few moments is insignificant."
Harry eyed him warily. "Well, if you're sure."
He prodded the silver in the bowl, and they watched the events unfold. As Harry had expected, Remus went a little pale when he saw Wormtail, but he held his ground and they continued on watching right to the point where the group of friends and the two teachers disappeared down the Honeyduke's passage.
"All right." Remus said, letting out a breath of air he seemed to have been holding for awhile. "We can start with your aim."
"But you said that I have great aim!" Harry countered.
"No, not with your wand. With your arm." Remus said, pointing to Harry's right arm. "You didn't once throw any physical objects at the Death-Eaters, except for the moment when you were pelting them with galleons, and really that looked more like accidental magic than anything. It was rather uncontrolled, from what I could see."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Should I have thrown something then?"
Remus shrugged. "There's nothing that puts a witch or wizard off more than someone who doesn't use magic to defend themselves. Many people believe that they can only use their wands to fight, but we both know that that's nothing but hogwash."
Harry smiled, seeing the thoughtful glint in Remus' eye. "So what are we going to do now to practice aim?"
"Something I haven't done in ages." Remus said. "We're going to juggle!"
0 0 0 0 0
Harry looked sadly out the window of the Hogwart's Express, and waved to Remus and the Weasleys who stood outside on the platform. He and Remus had certainly become a lot closer this Christmas, and Harry had found himself confiding quite a bit in his tutor.
Remus was easy to talk to, and better still, he was an adult who cared. Harry had tried his hardest not to let himself get too close to the werewolf, but he couldn't seem to help it. Even now, Harry understood the lurking threat that stood behind them both. With Remus being almost constantly ill, and an active member of the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry being the top victim on Voldemort's list of people to kill, their lives were always on the edge. One simple misstep could be the end for either one of them, and Harry didn't want any regrets or misunderstandings between them.
He didn't want it to be the way it had with Sirius. Then it had been nothing but incomplete letters sent sporadically, and constant semi-awareness of the other's presence, then an incomplete end with no real goodbyes.
After Mundungus Fletcher's embarrassing blunder, the headmaster had decided that it was most certainly too dangerous to let Remus use Grimmauld Place any more and he'd asked if Remus might want to consider using the Shrieking Shack. The shack had been originally set up to keep in an active werewolf safe back when Remus was in Hogwarts, and it was fear charmed so there was no chance at all that an innocent person would come inside. People wouldn't even go near the place on a dare as they were so frightened of the 'ghosts' that the shack was famous for.
Harry was pleased to know that he had a real reason to keep in constant touch, now that Dumbledore had agreed to let Remus stay nearby for his transformations. Dumbledore knew that Remus did not cope well on his own and Harry was pleased to help out. He was glad that he had a valid excuse to see the werewolf regularly even if it was only when he was in werewolf form.
Remus waved back to Harry from the crowded platform, and smiled. "Send me a letter!"
"I will!" Harry called back. "Hedwig's looking forward to the work!"
The station slowly disappeared, and Harry once again took his seat beside Hermione. Ron and Luna had apparently gone off to find the head boy and girl for some reason, and Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Harry were left by themselves in the compartment.
"She really is looking forward to it, you know." Hermione mumbled to him.
"Huh?" Harry hadn't a clue what she was talking about.
"Hedwig." Hermione clarified. "She told me she doesn't get much work from you. She sometimes feels as if she isn't needed."
"Oh." Harry said, stunned. He looked over at his beautiful white owl, and she seemed to be eyeing him reproachfully. He had always seen a certain amount of intelligence in the creature, but he was once again reminded just how human his owl could sometimes be. "I'm sorry Hedwig. I'll come and see you more often all right? Maybe Hermione or Ginny will have some messages that they want to send."
Both of the girls nodded. "That's what I told her." Hermione explained. "She's very worried for you though. She thinks that you don't write to other people very much because you don't have many friends. I explained how it was to her."
"Er..." Harry paused. "How is it?"
"That your friends are almost always in the same place you are. It'd be kind of silly for you to be sending out letters to people if they were standing right next to you."
"Oh."
"What did you two find out from Crookshanks?" She asked, patting what looked like a ginger ball of fur that had curled itself up in her lap.
Ginny and Harry shared a look.
"He's decided that he's the alpha." Ginny explained, and both she and Harry blushed. "I think when we didn't bother to fight him for that package of catnip he took it the wrong way, and decided we were inferior."
Harry nodded. "He's a very helpful and brave cat, but I still think he's pug ugly." He looked fleetingly over at Neville when he realized what he had just said. "Sorry, Neville. It's just an expression."
"No harm done." Neville assured him.
"And what did Pig tell you about Ron?" Ginny asked enthusiastically. It sounded as if she really wanted some dirt about her brother for possible future bribery.
Hermione blushed. "Pig doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut."
"Really?" Ginny asked. "Do tell."
At that moment, Ron and Luna returned to the cabin, and Hermione blushed again, obviously not willing to tell the rest of the story in front of Ron.
"Do tell what?" Ron asked, plopping himself down on Hermione's other side. Harry felt her shift nervously toward him, away from Ron.
"Er..." Harry tried to pick up a new thread of conversation. "Do tell us what happened to Trevor, Neville?"
"Yes, of course." Hermione interjected, sounding incredibly relieved. "We were just discussing our pets, and we were wondering why we haven't seen Trevor in awhile."
Ron looked as though he knew the subject had changed on his behalf, and he stared at Hermione sizing her up, a hint of a threat in his eyes.
Neville made the whole thing just that much less believable by letting out a little, "urp," and staring at Ron and Hermione as if he had only just realized what sort of things Pig might have told her. "He... erm... passed away just before Christmas."
"Oh isn't that a pity." Luna said patting him on the arm. "I'm very sorry to hear about your loss."
Neville's chest puffed out a bit. "Yes, well he was quite old you see. I've had him since I started at Hogwarts, and even five years is quite long for a toad. I'll be okay though. Maybe now my gran will let me get an owl or something." He looked back over at Hermione, almost as if he might be thinking twice about the possibility. He wouldn't want any pet of his to be telling all of his secrets. "On second thought, I think I'll ask her if I could get some other sort of pet."
Ron cringed. "I hope it wasn't too forward of me to be buying you that rubber frog. I didn't realize... I'm sorry."
Neville just smiled. "Not a worry. Maybe I'll get a lizard."
Luna clapped her hands eagerly. "Oh, you must! And you'll bring it to our hide and seek!"
"Of course." Neville answered, blushing. "You, after all, are the only one of us without someone to talk to."
Luna let out an uncharacteristic squeal, and kissed Neville enthusiastically on the cheek.
Everyone else exchanged looks silent approval.
