UNDER THE FULL MOON
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Disclaimer: HP can stand for hairy potatoes, happy porcupines, helpless people, horrified penguins, or (and this is my personal favorite) Harry Potter. By the way, I don't own Harry Potter.
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CHAPTER EIGHT – A STRANGE PROPHECY
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Remus followed the centaur at what he hoped was a safe distance. The centaur seemed to move very lightly over the loam, despite his massive size, and it made Remus very aware of his own feet crunching on the leaves.
The centaur led him along a winding path through the forest. Though the sun was rising, the foliage above blocked more light than it could muster. The growing gloom only added to Remus's feeling of dark foreboding.
Thick vines snaked around ancient trees and barred the path, though the centaur charged through them and allowed Remus to follow in his wake. The werewolf could hear the chirping cries of strange animals, and he shivered. Was there any chance the centaur would allow him to turn back?
Probably not.
By the time they stopped, Remus's feet ached. The Forbidden Forest was more massive than he had ever imagined.
The centaur suddenly stopped and stood, still and poised, like a mythological statue.
Remus allowed a few seconds of silence to pass before asked, "Where are we?"
The answer came from somewhere behind his left shoulder. "We're in the Centaur's Clearing." The voice, though still strong, belonged to a shrunken, wrinkled centaur with wild white hair and a silver-gray coat. "You're the first Hogwarts student to come here in a very long time."
Remus was speechless. He felt as if he should at least say, "I'm honored," but the words stuck in his throat.
The ancient centaur continued. "Look up," he commended. Remus obeyed. A small patch of clear blue sky shone through the oppressive foliage. He turned his gaze back to the centaurs. The centaur that had led him to the Centaur's Clearing now stood beside his older counterpart.
"What am I looking at?" Remus wondered.
"This," the young centaur said with flourish, "is the only area in the deep forest that the sky can be seen."
Remus waited for the centaur to elaborate on why he was here.
"As you probably know," the old centaur said, "We learn from the stars and the planets." He paused, and Remus nodded. "We use this spot for watching some of the most important celestial events."
Remus glanced up through the hole again.
"Usually, the lives of humans are not foretold in the stars," the old centaur said gravely. "But, two nights ago, we learned grave news."
Baffled, Remus asked, "But what has this got to do with me?"
The elderly centaur bowed his head. "Sadly, this is not your news. It should not be your burden. However, you were the only Hogwarts student we chanced upon, and you have important ties to the subjects of our knowledge."
Curiosity was overpowering Remus's fear. He asked, "What is this prophecy?"
"Prophecy?" the old centaur barked. "No, this isn't a prophecy. Prophecies are the work of foolish human psychics. This is knowledge. Knowledge invariably comes true, whether it is tampered with or not. It is how it comes true that will matter."
"Sorry, then," said Remus. "What is the knowledge?"
The centaur's eyes pierced Remus's locking his gaze in a steady stare. "If you cannot make things right with your friends and enemies now, there is no hope for the future."
Remus blinked slowly and turned the words over in his mind. "What does that mean?" he asked. "Is there more?"
Both centaurs shook their heads in a firm but silent "no." "You must tell no one of this, not even your closest friends."
What will happen if I do? Remus wondered. He planned to, as soon as he returned, tell James, Sirius, and Peter. Perhaps they could make some sense of it.
He felt a stab of anxiety as he remembered that something had gone wrong the night before. Maybe he wouldn't have anyone to tell.
"Follow me," the large young centaur ordered, and walked away from the clearing.
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A wave of pain splashed over Sirius, and he ground his teeth in an effort to keep from yelling aloud. When it had passed, he muttered, "You think they'd be able to do something for us, don't you."
Lily sighed. "That would certainly be nice. But I suppose they're just not so good at treating werewolf wounds." Her voice was a mix of contemplative and bitter.
"Sorry," Sirius said. "You're probably worse off than me. My problems aren't permanent."
"Permanent," Lily repeated. "It souns so final."
"That is the definition of 'permanent,'" Sirius said lightly. The pain had subsided. Lily's only reply was an exasperated groan. "Fine, I'm sorry," he said. "You know, it can't be that bad. Remus has been a werewolf since age five."
"And does he enjoy it?" Lily asked.
"Not exactly," Sirius said hesitantly. "But he lives with it."
Lily fell silent.
"You know," Sirius said, "I'm so bored I almost want to read for pleasure."
Lily laughed, but was interrupted by the opening of the infirmary doors. Sirius could see from the corner of his eye that James had just walked in. He didn't look too happy.
Storming over to Siriu's bed, James exclaimed, "Do you know what Peter's been doing? He told the entire school about what happened. So now they know about you, and Remus, and Lily—everything. He kept saying he had to tell them, but you know he just wanted to be popular for once."
"It's nice to see you too, James," Sirius cut in quietly. James's loud entrance had made his head throb again. "Calm down. No one is blaming you for this, and you can't blame really Peter. People would have found out anyway, or just made up their own stories. I'd personally rather have been mauled by a werewolf than trapped in a killer toilet or something."
James slumped visibly. "But he even told Snape. Snape! And Snape came over and laughed at us, at you, and ugh… Snape!"
"We already knew that Snape was a git," Sirius said. "Here's an idea. You figure out some fun revenge, and let me know what it is. Then I'll help you the best I can without moving too much."
"I'm sorry, Sirius," James said. He glanced at the clock that hung above Sirius's bed. "Well, I've got a class now. Bye."
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Peter sighed loudly as he mispronounced the finding spell that Dumbledore had taught him and turned his robes a noxious, bright pink. "James…" he said. James's wand already hung in midair, pointed into the deep woods. A couple feet to their left, some teachers were casting the same spell.
James repeated the incantation, and Peter finally got it right. "Do you have the Map?" he asked.
James answered by tapping his wand against the map and stating, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Of course he was up to good, Peter thought. They were looking for their missing friend. That was probably the best thing the Marauder's Map could be used to do.
"He's not even on here," James said incredulously, his voice laced with panic. "How could that be? We mapped out so much of the forest. What if he's…"
"Fine," Peter cut in. "Remember what Dumbledore said? Now, let's go find him."
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