"I still don't see what we need the names for, James," Remus said, his eyes fixed on the Arithmancy book open in his lap.
James stretched back against the Gryffindor common room's giant scarlet sofa. "They can be like code names for our Animagi forms. And werewolf forms, of course."
Remus's mouth tightened into a frown. "I'd rather you not talk about my furry little problem out in the common room."
"No one else is here, Re—it's Monday night." He grinned at Remus. "You're the only one who spends your Monday nights studying, mate."
Remus rubbed his forehead. "I won't be getting any studying done tonight," he murmured, glancing nervously out the windows at the setting sun. It would be time for him to leave for the Shrieking Shack soon. Time for all of them to leave for the Shrieking Shack, Sirius thought.
Remus always looked his sickest the day leading up to his transformation, but Sirius thought there was a strange allure to him pre-moon, a fierce kind of strength that shone through his pallid skin and tired green eyes. Remus was determined to live his life as normally as he could, studying and plotting and shoveling food into his nauseous stomach until he gagged, up until the very last minute, always returning his eyes to the sinking sun that counted down his last free hours. Sirius could see the soft golden streaks the sun left in Remus's hair; he'd been unable to stop noticing them ever since his conversation with Remus on the roof of his cottage so many months ago.
Oh, Merlin—he was staring again. Quickly he turned back to James, who was still in the process of devising code names for the Marauders.
"I'll be Prongs," he decided. "Because my stag's got pointy antlers. And Peter, we should call you Wormtail."
"Wormtail?" Peter asked. He looked mildly offended.
Sirius nodded. "Your rat tail kind of does look like a worm, mate."
"Ew," Peter muttered. "I hate worms."
"And you," James said, pointing to Remus, "shall be Moony." He raised his eyebrows mischievously.
Sirius snorted; Remus shut his book with an exasperated sigh. "God, James. Moony? Really?"
James kicked Sirius in the shin. "Now it's your turn. What d'you want to be called?"
"Why does Sirius get to make his own nickname?" Peter complained.
"Because I can't come up with a good one for him."
Sirius tapped his wand against his knee, thinking. "Padfoot," he said eventually. "'Cause dogs have padded feet."
"So do wolves," Remus pointed out.
"And cats," added Peter. "And lots of other animals."
"No, it's perfect," James said. Sirius smiled the way he always did when James praised him. "We don't want the names to be too obvious."
"And Moony isn't obvious?" Remus said.
"I don't think so, mate. It's quite open to interpretation. Maybe you've got a thing for mooning people or something."
Peter collapsed against his armchair with a massive laugh, and Remus gave James an equally massive eye-roll.
"I love it," said Sirius, leaning back against James. "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Sounds like a really cool band name."
"Did you just say you're trying to form a band?" someone asked from the stairs leading down from the dorms. The Marauders all went tense. "We've all heard your singing, Sirius, and you sound nearly as bad as a mermaid out of water."
It was Mary Macdonald, with Lily Evans laughing at her shoulder. Both of them were holding boxes filled with grinning pumpkins and chattering skulls. Lily's shiny new prefect's badge gleamed against her chest—Remus never wore his badge except when on prefect duties, but Lily's had become a permanent fixture on her robes.
James pulled himself up straight at the sight of Lily, nervously fixing his hair and adjusting his glasses. "We sure are, Mary," he said, though his eyes were conspicuously trained on her friend. "Would you like to join?"
"What're you doing here?" Sirius asked.
"This might be news to you, Sirius, but the Gryffindor common room doesn't actually belong to you and your friends," Lily snapped. She shook the box in her hands. "Mary and I are supposed to be decorating for Halloween. It's meant to be my and Remus's job, but he told me he had somewhere else to be tonight." She narrowed her eyes at Remus questioningly.
"Er…I do, actually," Remus said, standing up. He glanced out the windows one more time—the sun was now sinking beneath the surrounding trees. "I should get going now, I think. It's getting late."
"That it is," James said; he was looking at Lily a bit forlornly, as though he wished he could stay and help put out skulls with her. But this night was important, for Remus and for them all, and Sirius knew James wouldn't miss it for anything.
"Oh, you lot are going too?" Lily said, outraged. "I thought you had something important to do, Remus."
"I do," he assured her, flustered. "Very important. I…I'll see you later, Lily."
"Remus—"
But the Marauders were already on their way out of the common room, Sirius giving Lily and Mary a wave and a wink before scrambling out the hole in the wall and past the Fat Lady.
"You'd better have a good explanation for your important business by the time you get back," Sirius said to Remus, running up behind him and tousling his golden-streaked hair. "Lily's not going to let you off easy this time."
"I know," Remus murmured, smiling a little. "I'll think of something." He raised his eyebrows at Sirius. "You know, I'm starting to think Mary likes you."
"Mary?" Sirius shook his head skeptically. "No way, mate. Lily would murder her if she were into me. And did you hear what she said about my singing?"
"Yes," Remus replied, "but I also saw the way she was looking at you when she said it. Like she might be seeking out your little fan club soon."
Sirius rolled his eyes. He knew what Remus was talking about: the girls who always stole glances at him in the hallways, eyeing him as if they wanted something from him, something he wasn't prepared to give. Sirius didn't care about anyone at Hogwarts outside of his three best friends—everyone else could piss off for all he cared. He suddenly felt a strong compulsion to make sure Remus understood that. "She'll be just as disappointed as the rest of them, then," he said. "I don't date my fans—that sort of thing never turns out well for us celebrities." Remus smirked, and Sirius could swear he saw him perk up a bit.
They reached the first floor of the castle, and all of them but Remus ducked into a little side closet to don James's Invisibility Cloak. They stepped out into the hall and followed a pace behind Remus, dodging the students flitting by as best they could. Just outside the Great Hall, Sirius spotted Severus with a giant book clutched to his chest, headed back towards the Slytherin dorms following what must have been a late dinner. "Petrificus Totalus," Sirius muttered under the Cloak, swishing his wand; instantly Snape's limbs snapped against his sides and he toppled face-first to the ground, his large nose squelching painfully against his book. The students around him broke out into laughter, with a pair of second year Gryffindor boys running over to prod at him with their wands until a harried Ravenclaw prefect bustled them away. James gave Sirius an underhanded high-five.
Remus turned to side-eye the others, guessing their location impressively well after years of practice. "Which one of you did that?"
"Sirius," Peter said.
"Sirius, I swear—"
"Oh, come on, Remus, he was right there. I can hardly be expected to pass up a chance to jinx Snivellus, can I?"
Remus sighed. "I really wish you'd all just leave him alone. He wouldn't bother you so much if you didn't try to start things with him first."
"You are no fun, Mr Prefect," James said. "Just deduct some points from us and be done with it."
"Maybe I would if I thought any of you actually cared about House points," Remus replied wryly. They'd reached the door to the hospital wing—Remus rapped on it with his knuckles, gesturing for the others to step back.
Immediately the door swung open to reveal Madam Pomfrey. "You're late," she told him. "I thought you'd be here twenty minutes ago."
"Sorry, Madam. There was a bit of commotion out in the hall." James and Sirius grinned and bumped fists.
"Well, no matter. We've still got plenty of time. Come in." Remus dropped off his change of clothes and a bar of James's chocolate at one of Pomfrey's beds before accompanying her out of the hospital wing and onto the Hogwarts grounds, with the other Marauders following a few yards behind. They walked straight up to the Whomping Willow after checking for any students lurking around outside, and Pomfrey immobilized the tree by tapping a knot near its trunk like Remus had shown them.
James, Sirius and Peter trailed them through the tunnel beneath the tree and into the Shrieking Shack, where Pomfrey bade a quick farewell to Remus before heading back the way she'd come. Once she was gone, the other boys pulled off the Cloak and stood facing Remus on the bottom floor of the Shack, each of them lighting their wands to see through the darkness that pervaded the space.
Remus's face was somehow even paler than it had been before. "Are you absolutely sure about this?" he asked for the thousandth time. "One-hundred-percent sure?"
"Yes, Moony," James said exasperatedly; Peter giggled at the use of the name, but Remus didn't even seem to notice. "We've been over this. McGonagall said they already tried putting an Animagus and a werewolf together a long time ago and nothing happened to either of them. And you know you can't infect us while we're animals."
"It's not just about infecting you, though," said Remus. "My…wolf…it's stronger than any normal animal, and much less concerned about pain. No matter how big and strong your Animagus forms are, I'm going to be stronger, and very difficult to deal with."
James slapped Sirius on the back. "Good thing there's two of us, then," he said. "I'm not sure Peter will be much help when it comes to restraining a werewolf, unfortunately."
"Definitely not," Peter agreed nervously.
Remus still didn't look convinced. Privately Sirius was feeling nervous, too; they'd never even seen Remus in his wolf form before, and there was a reason werewolves were one of the most feared creatures in the entire wizarding world. But how could Sirius be afraid of Remus, one of his favorite people in the world, someone he trusted more than nearly anyone else?
"I should go in with the wolf first," Sirius said. "Our animals are similar to each other, so he should be the most comfortable with me." He was careful not to refer to the wolf as Remus; Remus never did, wanting to separate himself as much as possible from the monster he occasionally became.
"That makes sense," Remus said. He looked at Sirius almost gratefully. "But all of you need to transform before I do. If not, the wolf will come after you as soon as it's able."
"Will do, mate," said James. Peter opted to shrink into his rat form right then and there.
Sirius stepped forward and laid a hand on Remus's shoulder. He was trembling, Sirius realized, his heart clenching. "Don't worry about us," Sirius said softly to him. He knew it was pointless: Remus always worried about the rest of them, more than he ever worried about himself. "Let's go upstairs."
The two of them headed up to the Shack's makeshift bedroom, leaving James and Peter watching from below. Sirius shut the door behind him, crushed Remus into a fierce, tight hug, then backed away to transform.
Sirius's first transformation had seemed incredibly long, like he could feel the movement of each individual bone and muscle—now that he was used to it, however, he could slip in and out of his animal form as quickly and smoothly as water down a stream.
Sirius took a moment to adjust to his new dog senses, allowing him to see better in the room's low light and hear the soft pattering of hooves and rat feet against the floor below. And he could smell Remus everywhere, human-scent and wolf-scent all mixed together. The human Remus standing in front of him had the wolf-scent, too, growing stronger and stronger as each moment passed.
Sirius trod over and nuzzled Remus's side; Remus sunk to the ground beside him and scratched nervously behind his ears. Sirius could tell by his scent and the way he held himself that he was in great pain. With a soft whine, he rested his head against Remus's leg, wishing he could do more to help him.
After a few moments of still silence, Sirius felt Remus's body go tense beneath him; he gave a pained gasp and pushed Sirius roughly away. He leaned forward into a crouch, pulling his arms into his chest as his body began to change.
Sirius had thought Remus's transformation would be similar to an Animagus's, quick and sleek and painless, but he soon realized that the two couldn't be more different. Remus transformed in fits and starts, his limbs shooting out at unnatural angles and his body contorting and breaking as it tried desperately to fight off the wolf. Remus let out a heartrending cry that was somewhere between a yelp and a scream as his head distorted itself into a wolf's muzzle and his fingers crumbled away into claws. Remus's clothes stretched and tore as the wolf grew until they were nothing but a pile of shredded fabric at his paws, the last remnants of Remus's human self ripped to bits.
Wolf-Remus was huge, even larger than Sirius's dog, and his body rippled with tough, lean muscles. He was covered in just as many scars as his human self, but there was something about him that Sirius found strikingly beautiful: his fur was the dark gray of thunderclouds just before a storm, and his eyes were a bright yellow flecked with darker bits of gold like Remus's hair. They struck Sirius as oddly human.
The wolf dropped into a wary crouch and let out a low, throaty growl. Somewhere inside him, Sirius's canine instincts told him how to respond—he sunk into an even lower crouch and drew back his ears, tucking his tail between his legs and rolling back his eyes. The wolf crept slowly up to him and gave him a tentative sniff; Sirius raised his head to lick at his muzzle. I'm not a threat, his body told the wolf. I don't want to hurt you.
The wolf gave another growl, quieter and less menacing, and stepped away. Sirius wondered if he was going to turn against himself, draw his own blood or throw himself against the walls, but he didn't—he kept his eyes fixed on Sirius, as if waiting to see what he would do. He looked almost lonely, Sirius thought.
Thunk. Something hard slammed against the bedroom door, forcing it open; James the stag strode boldly inside, with rat-Peter climbing amongst his antlers. Sirius went still—he'd wanted longer with the wolf before the others came in—but the wolf padded up to James and sniffed him as he had Sirius, showing no signs of fear or menace or anger. He didn't seem to notice the rat at all.
Then he did something even more strange: he left James and returned to stand in front of Sirius, his tail fanned out behind him, and gave the dog a gentle nip on the shoulder, retreating to cock his head at him playfully.
With a bark, Sirius leapt on top of him and nipped him around the ears in response. The wolf growled and rolled onto his back, lunging for the scruff around Sirius's neck; Sirius dodged and skirted out of the way, taunting the wolf to come after him, which he quickly did. James joined in, too, butting against both wolf and dog with his massive, pointy antlers, and all three of them began to tussle around the room. Peter climbed up onto the frayed remains of the bed to observe them from a safe distance.
Eventually they collapsed, worn out, and the wolf stretched himself out across the floor contentedly. Sirius glanced around at the blood-stained, battered room that surrounded them, clearly the home of a powerful monster, and then back at the dozing wolf before him. He could hardly believe that this wolf—Remus's wolf—had caused such damage in moons past. It was as if he'd become a different creature altogether with the Animagi around.
James settled himself beside Sirius, meeting his gaze. Sirius could tell that both of them were thinking the same thing: somehow, their plan had worked out even better than they'd thought it would.
