Disclaimer: Still at the wrong end of the country to be the goddess that is J.K.R, so I still own nothing
Chapter Four:
Deer Confessions
In the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is a large tree with thick branches that drop back towards the ground like a fountain. A magical variety of the tree of emotions, A Whomping Willow. So called because of it's unique defence mechanism, it bludgeons everyone and everything that comes within reach of it's enormous limbs.
This particular one was obviously ancient, but had only been planted in its present position the summer before our first year. What almost no-one knew was why…..
The Whomping Willow has one weakness, an Achilles heel, a small knot on one of the roots that snaked out from its silver-tone trunk. When pressed the tree is paralysed, and you can approach without worrying about being battered by the branches overhead. This made it perfect for its job! You see among the Willows roots is the mouth of a tunnel that leads directly into the Shrieking Shack. Once a month, when the moon shone full, Remus Lupin would press the knot with a long stick, hurry along the earthy passageway, and enter the Shack to transform. This way the rest of Hogwarts was safe from the wolf, and him from discovery. Absolutely safe, until Valentines Day in our sixth year.
"I think I might have told Snape how to get into the Whomping Willow!" Sirius whimpered, pale as death.
Any colour I had in my own face drained and I lent back against the wall, horrified.
James' hazel eyes had lost all warmth. There was a hardness in them that could of killed. He pulled his arm back and, before I could stop him, landed a punch on Sirius' nose. The other boys head snapped back sharply, hitting the wall behind him. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Standing over his friends prone body, I could see James trembling with rage. He wasted only a second like this before spinning on his heel and sprinting down towards the Entrance Hall.
"I'm going to stop Snape from getting himself killed," he yelled over his shoulder.
Shaken, I took several deep breaths to pull myself together, and sunk to my knees at Sirius' side.
"Way to go Black," I mumbled as I quickly checked him over.
Discovering nothing more than a broken nose and a large bump where his head connected with the wall I muttered the mobilicorpus charm, and started guiding a hovering Sirius towards the Hospital Wing.
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An hour later both James and I were leaving said Hospital Wing. I had deposited Sirius there, and James had arrived moments later, half carrying an extremely pale Severus Snape. As Madam Pomfrey had fussed over her charges, Dumbledore had entered.
The twinkle had left his sparkling blue eyes, he'd looked graver than I had ever seen him, and I'd even felt a little fearful of this unfamiliar side of him. He'd strolled straight to Severus and asked him how he'd found out how to get into the Willow. Severus had wasted no time in telling him how he'd found Sirius drunk in the Hogs Head, how Sirius had willingly told him how to get into the tree "if he wanted to know the BIG secret." Then Dumbledore had turned to us.
James and I had stood in the corner, not daring to look at each other, feeling guilty for some inexplicable reason. Our gazes had stayed firmly fixed on the ground, but the formidable presence of the headmaster as he turned to us had forced us to raise our heads.
"Well done Mr Potter. Both Mr Snape and Mr Lupin owe you their lives tonight."
"Mr Lupin, Sir?" James had asked, now certain neither of us were in trouble.
"Yes, indeed. It is a lifetime in Azkaban for murder, and the law does not except lycanthropy as a defence," the wise, old mentor had explained. "This matter is still very grave however, and I will need to speak to both of you. Shall we say my office, tomorrow morning, about ten." And with that he had left.
Madam Pomfrey had then shooed us out, and so, here we were. Heading back towards Gryffindor Tower.
James didn't say a word as we made our way through the silent, darkened castle. I sensed he wanted to be left to his own thoughts, so I didn't interrupt. However I did wonder what was going on behind those deep hazel eyes.
We clambered through the portrait hole into the raucous atmosphere of the common room. James threw himself into a squishy red chair in front of the fire, one leg slung lazily over its arm, and proceeded to stare into the softly flickering flames.
I spotted Amy in the corner with Martin, obviously her date had been a success, and decided not to disturb them. Instead I sat down on the overstuffed sofa, pulled my book from my bag, and tried to read.
Ten minutes later I realized I had read the same paragraph twenty times, and not taken in a word of it. Sighing, I marked my page and placed the book on the low mahogany table in front of me.
As I straighten up I glanced at the raven-haired boy sprawled in the armchair along from me. His eyes were unfocused behind his round glasses, and he worriedly ran a hand through his hair. My concern for him grew, (As well as my unease at the way my stomach had started to squirm whenever I looked at him.) I pondered what James was thinking:
Sirius, sleeping off the Hogs Head's best liquor and a knock out punch James himself had delivered.
Remus, suffering his painful, nightmarish, monthly transformation in the Shrieking Shack. Peter,…….Where was Peter?
Reflecting on this my mind travelled back to the secret passage we had hauled Sirius through. What had James said? "We should be there by now, Moony's going to kill us"? Should be where? How could they be with Remus on a full-moon? Was that where Peter was now? After all, the Marauders always went to bed early on the night of the full-moon, but were falling asleep at their desks the next day. Was this why?
I was pulled out of my musings by a soft hand on my shoulder. Jumping, I turned around to see Amy's concerned blue eyes staring into my face.
"I've been saying your name for five minutes," she told me. "Are you Okay?"
"Yeah ," I nodded. "It's just been a long day.
"Sirius got drunk in Hogsmeade, and when we got him back to the school he got into a fight with James. He's in the Hospital Wing now." Amy didn't know about Remus being a werewolf, I had kept my promise to him not to tell anyone.
"I'm sure Sirius will be fine," she reassured me. "Are you coming to bed?"
Looking up I noticed James, Amy and I were the only ones left up. James was still lost in a world of his own, and I had to make sure he was alright.
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'll be up in a little while."
She nodded and headed up the stairs to our Dorm.
The days events started to run through my head again, but slowly my thoughts became fuzzy, and my eyes began to droop. I began to dream, seeing the Marauders all sat in the Shack drinking tea with a very hairy Remus.
Bang!
My eyes flew open as the portrait hole slammed shut. James had gone! Without thinking I pulled his invisibility cloak from my bag, threw it over myself, and followed him.
I stealthy tracked him through the eerie castle while strange shadows loomed round corners. Twice James ducked into an empty classroom, narrowly avoiding Peeves and Mrs Norris respectively, and I almost lost him.
Eventually, he unwittingly led me out into the school grounds, towards the Whomping Willow. I watched noiselessly as he picked up a long stick and crept towards the violent tree.
My stomach knotted as I realized what he was going to do. Images of James' mangled, bloody body flashed before my eyes. I had to do something.
"James! No!" I cried out.
He turned around, searching wildly for the person who had called him. In this moment of distraction, one of the Willows flailing branches struck him from behind, tossing him into the air like a rag doll. He landed face down at the edge of the forest, with a sickening thud.
"James!"
I threw off the cloak and ran to him. I dropped to my knees and carefully rolled him onto his back. For one terrible instant I feared he was dead, but he let out a small moan and groggily opened his eyes. A smile played on his lips as he spotted me leaning over him, concern covering my features.
"What the hell were you doing Potter?!" I asked in shock and the beginnings of anger.
"Hey Evans," he said weakly. "You know, you're beautiful when you're angry."
He tried to sit up but his eyes closed and he swayed slightly. I put my arms around his shoulders before he fell and supported his weight.
"Are you Okay?" I softly asked.
"I'm fine," he answered in a placating tone. "Just a little dizzy. I must of hit my head pretty hard."
I moved so I was kneeling behind him. Smoothing his hair off his forehead, I guided him back so he lent against me. I felt him relax as I continued to stroke his hair.
Later I realized, with discomfort, this was the second time in one day I had lost track of time for purely being in James Potters presence. My eyes closed, I rested my chin against his head and absent-mindedly continued to caress his unruly locks.
Minutes, or hours, later a werewolves howl brought us to our senses. My cheeks coloured and I was grateful it was dark.
"So," I said, placing the hand that had been fondling his hair on his upper arm. "How did you think you were going to see Remus without getting mauled to death?"
He twisted his head to look at me. Our eyes locked and I almost lost myself in their hazel depths. His gaze was searching, he knew he had to confess, but wasn't sure he could trust me.
"Lily," he started, graver than I'd ever heard him. "You have to promise me this goes no further than us."
I nodded, but he shook his head.
"No, Lily. Promise!"
"I promise," I swore, surprised by the force in his voice.
"Okay," he took a deep breath, and launched into an explanation. "Sirius, Peter and I are animagi!"
He ignored my scandalized expression and continued. "Remus' transformations are very painful and, without anyone around him, the wolf takes its aggression out on himself. The bites and scratches are vicious. Have you ever seen him the next morning?"
I shook my head dumbly.
"Well I have," he continued. "It's not pretty, and he's seriously injured himself more than once.
"After we found out his secret, the rest of us did a lot of research. We discovered that werewolves aren't a danger to other animals, only people, and that they are able to keep more of their human consciousness when in the company of other creatures.
"It was my idea, and it took us three years to do it properly. Remus didn't know, we didn't tell him until we knew we could do it."
My mouth had been gaping open but I finally found my voice, "Potter, that illegal!" I half shouted, trying to keep my voice quite. Instead it grew into a high pitched squeal. "Not to mention dangerous. What if it had gone wrong?"
"Well it didn't," James retorted defensively. "We've been able to do it for over a year.
"I turn into a stag, Sirius a dog and Peter a rat."
"Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail," I said with sudden recognition of where the strange nicknames had come from.
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When I finally got to bed in the early hours of the morning, I lay awake thinking about the days events. I'd promised James his secret was safe with me, but I couldn't help wondering if I had done the right thing. What the Marauders had done wasn't just against school rules, but against the laws of the land.
At the same time I couldn't fault their reasons for doing it. In my own research into werewolves I had come across first hand accounts of transformations. The unbearable pain as bones break and reform, as internal systems rearrange themselves and hair sprouts all over. These testimonies also described the dreadful loss of self, the way you're mind would became feral, all traces of intelligence and humanity stripped away. How it feels to wake the next morning, unable to remember the previous nights events. I knew it was that, rather than the pain, that would plague Remus.
Gryffindors sandy haired Marauder, so calm, so in control, so utterly unflappable. He who valued his ordered mind above all else. It must be like having your worst fear realized every single month. If his friends had found a way of making this easier for him, I couldn't blame them for doing it.
Yet Sirius had betrayed Remus, knowing the way his condition shamed him. I remembered the dark way he had muttered in the tunnel at James' mention of their friend, and wondered what had happened that could compromise the fellowship of the Marauders.
Recalling the tunnel and James brought another disconcerted feeling. What had passed in these moments between me and James? Why was I getting butterflies in my stomach when I thought of him? When did I start caring about his well-being?
At just past three in the morning I finally fell into a fitful slumber, with far more questions than answers.
A/N Hello anybody who's still reading this. I hoped you enjoyed although I know it was one of these slow filler chapters. Thanks to my reviewers Jen, Marauding-Siriusly, Black Emerald, YoshimiWolfspaw and ShaddowMoony. A special shout out to Amalynne O'Hara about Amy, her looks and bookishness are based on me, her sense of humour is entirely my sister, and her basic personality has a lot of my 2 best friends. I hope you like her, she appears in a lot of my original fiction, although obviously she's not usually a witch. Please do review, all opinions are welcome, even if your opinion is that this fiction is a waste of virtual paper. Seasons greetings to every one, and if I don't post be for HAPPY NEW YEAR! Take care, Gem
