Hey everyone!
You know, it doesn't hurt to comment, seeing as I do check my story stats and people are reading this. It really sucks as an author when no one ever comments, this being the reason I mainly post of Ao3, as the community and readers are more active to tell you what they like and don't like. But this place... has been always been very silent, and I've used this website for a long time. Comments that say 'please update' make an author feel like a writing machine, not an actual person.
You can ignore this and go about your time if you must, but if you can, remember, authors are people too, and I sure as fuck comment.
-Spencer
She landed with a huff, leaves coating her clothes and spider webs covering her curls. The ruckus from above was decently audible, and she stood with a courageous face, wand at the ready and eyes searching every corner.
A light coat of blood trailed the ground, leading down, down, down the path. The unnerving chill rattled her bones, and the fear that she'd tried to push away reared its ugly head; maybe bringing Jean would've been a good idea.
It was an open tunnel; there was a great deal of height above her head, and even harshly carved stairs that led further down. This was a man made tunnel, but it was unknown to essentially everyone…
Why was it here? Where did it go?
Unanswerable questions ran through her had as she started to hear the screams of Ron Weasley much closer this time, picking up her speed into a jog, making sure to not trip over any loose roots that had grown over time. A few spiders hid in the dark corners, and she made sure to keep clear of them.
This chance of quiet gave her time to think and reflect, wondering why all the bad things happened to her; last year was bad enough with the nonsense of the Basilisk—and poor Daisy had been one of the few who'd been petrified—and now all of this.
And yet, her heart still yearned for Remus Lupin, wishing he were here to hold her close and fight the monsters for her. Even if he could never love her, was it wrong of her to still want him?
Maybe, she guessed.
Her brave face fell as she reached a tall set of broken down wooden steps, leading up to an empty doorway. Ron's whimpers seemed to emitting from there—and she gulped, wondering if turning back made her a coward.
The step under her trainer creaked so loud it rumbled her ears, and she waited for the dog to appear and tear her to bits. After a few moments, where nothing happened, she proceeded up the stairs, making it to doorframe that had seen better days.
The tip of her wand slowly pushed it open, precariously peeking in and immediately spotting a crying Ron, lowering her wand and sprinting to his side, "Are you alright?"
There was light blood staining his leg, and she knew getting him out by herself wouldn't work. Options seemed too limited to do much but wait for any sensible professor to come help.
Ron wouldn't meet her eyes, staring over her shoulder, "It's him! He's an Animagus!"
She turned and watched as the door was pushed closed, the gruesome form of Sirius Black staring straight at her. He looked much like the stories said—a feral Azkaban escapee with insanity in his eyes. The clothes on his back were rugged and dirty, covered in grime and who knows what else. The front of his chest was exposed, showing off tattoos that had seen better days.
"Don't come any closer," she raised her wand and kept a surprisingly straight face, "I'll hex you, I will."
"I have no doubt of that Elizabeth, I would expect nothing less of Ismelda's daughter."
Her wand trembled, "You knew my mother?"
He grinned, "We were friends."
The two squared off from opposite sides of the decrepit room, only breaking in their stare to watch Harry and Hermione run in, no Jean in sight. She hoped her friend had run off to find a Professor.
Hermione, the ever-brave one, took a stance in front of Harry, "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too."
"No, only one will die tonight." Sirius grinned, full expecting Harry to launch with a yell, shocking the three other students. Harry pulled forward his wand and stuck it under the Azkaban escapee's chin, prompting the older man to snicker, "Are you going to kill me, Harry?"
She'd taken two steps towards the fallen duo, prepared to tug Harry off the crazed old man—wand now stuffed in her pants pocket and at the ready for a binding spell to restrain the madman.
"Expelliarmus!"
That voice strung a long lonely chord in her chest, whirring around to stare at the out of breath Remus Lupin, wand drawn and pointed at Harry, the young boys wand having been thrown across the room.
Her eyes never left the taut form of Remus, watching as he ushered for Harry to free Black, leaving the two men staring head one. Eliza pulled Harry behind, covering him and feeling her own breath grow harsh. Would he kill Black? In front of four students whose young eyes weren't accustomed to such violence?
"Well, well, Sirius," Remus began, "Looking rather ragged aren't we. Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within."
Sirius snickered, mad eyes watching the Professor, "Well you'd know all about the madness within, wouldn't you, Remus?"
His words forced a sense of unease on Eliza, her eyes shooting back and forth between the two men, watching in bewilderment as Remus lowered his wand and—
Helped up Back?
It was gut wrenching—heart crushing—to watch the two men embrace as if old friends, Sirius brokenly sobbing, "I found him, he's here," while Remus morosely murmured, "I know."
"No!" Hermione screamed, pointing her finger at Remus, "I trusted you, and all this time, you've been his friend."
"Remus, how could you?" Eliza's voice cracked and broke as his eyes turned to her, regret seeping into his features.
"He's a werewolf," Hermione continued, sneering, "It's why he's been missing classes."
A what?
"How long have you know?" Remus turned his eyes away from his mate to stare down the 3rd year. "Since Professor Snape set the essay."
That day—Snape had set that essay for a reason, and Hermione's voice rang through her head.
An Animagus is a wizard who chooses to turn into an animal; a werewolf has no choice… A werewolf on a full moon would kill his best friend, they respond to the call of their own kind
"You're a werewolf?" Her quiet voice broke the silence, and Remus made the motion to step forward, but help himself back at the last second. "I was going to tell you sooner or later but I needed to know—"
"Know what? That I wouldn't run to Dumbledore about the werewolf sniffing up my skirt?" her voice grew louder and higher, tears threatening to fall, "I trusted you."
"Elizabeth, please." This time, he did try to step towards her, but Sirius ranted, "Enough of this petty lovers quarrel, let's kill him and be done."
"One moment, Sirius, she has to understand."
"No!" Sirius screamed, backing away from his old friend, rages overtaking his veins, "I did my waiting! 12 years of it! In Azkaban!"
Remus gave one last look to his teary-eyed Elizabeth, backing down and calmly relenting, "Fine, kill him. But at least tell Harry why."
"I know why! You're the reason my parents are dead." Harry confidently spat at Sirius, and Remus cut in, "No, Harry, it wasn't him. Someone did betray your parents, someone who until quiet recently I thought to be dead."
"Who was it then?"
Sirius proclaimed, "Peter Pettigrew!"
A spark of knowing nagged at the back of Eliza's mind, just sure that she'd heard that name before. It must have been mentioned in the articles about Black, but she couldn't place exactly what she'd read.
"And he's in this room, right now! Come out, Peter!" Sirius appeared truly mad—perhaps the years n Azkaban finally getting to him—"come out, come out and play!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Oh Merlin.
Snape stalked into the room like a predator, blasting Remus's wand and sneering at the two men.
"Vengeance is sweet." Severus droned, a flicker of delight in his eyes, "I was so hoping I'd be the one to catch you."
Sirius gulped, trying to reason with the Potions Professor, "Severus…"
"I told Dumbledore you were up to something with Black and—" His insult halted, wide eyes watching Elizabeth Jones with shock, "And to think, he trusted you with Miss Jones. How I pity him."
"Severus, please, just listen to us," Remus tried to reason as well, but simply received a wand to the face. And much in a Sirius Black fashion, "Brilliant, Snape. You've managed to stick you're overly large nose into the exact wrong conclusion, Now, if you'll excuse us, Remus and I have some business to attend to—"
Snape sneered and stuck his wand deeper into Black's neck, practically salivating, "Give me a reason. I beg you."
"Severus, please, don't be a fool." Remus tried to step towards the chaotic pair, but Sirius waved him off. Elizabeth watched Black and Snape bicker back and forth, feeling Remus step closer to her than he had in weeks.
Warmth spread as he neared, and she made to meet his eyes, watching those green orbs flicker with uncertainty. She wanted to hate the lies that had come forth—betrayal, and, hell, a werewolf? —But she found herself unable to quiver away from his presence.
"—A Dementor's Kiss. One can only imagine what that must be like. It's said to be nearly unbearable to witness, but I'll do my best." Snape sneered, veering his wand back to Lupin, eyes watching the interaction between student and Professor before it could happen.
"Elizabeth," Snape motioned to the door, never once breaking eyes from Remus, "After you."
All the occupants of the room turned to stare at the 6th year girl, her lips trembling as she tried to find reason not to leave, "P-professor Snape, don't you think we should hear them out? They've done nothing wrong yet."
Snape harked a laugh, gesturing to Sirius, "He's a murderer, you stupid girl. I'm within my right to cast judgment upon the both of them… especially the mongrel standing next to you."
A low growl started in Remus's chest, taking a wide stance in front of Elizabeth, "She's not leaving with you, not now, not ever."
"Expelliarmus!"
A burst of magic hit Professor Snape square in the chest, a spell so strong it threw him against a duty old bed on the other side of the room, the entire apparatus closing in on itself.
"Harry!" Hermione yelped, "You attacked a teacher!"
But Harry didn't care and turned his wand to Sirius, "Tell me about Peter Pettigrew."
"He was in school with is, we thought he was our friend." Remus stepped forward and reasoned with the young man, "I thought he was dead until you mentioned seeing him on the map."
Eliza couldn't help but asking, "What map?" and flinched as all eyes turned to her.
"Sirius, Peter, James Potter and I created a map when we were in school, it shows everyone in Hogwarts." She nodded and let Remus continue; "Peter Pettigrew has been thought to be dead for twelve years, but he's not, Harry."
"Well, where is he then?" Harry demanded, "Prove it."
Sirius stalked forward and let his arm show exactly who he knew to be Peter Pettigrew, "He's right there!"
Oh, he really has gone mad.
"Me?" Ron yelped, clutching Scabbers, "He's mental!"
Sirius groaned, "No, not you. Your rat!" Ron tried to reason with the madman, "Scabbers has been in my family for—"
"12 years? A surprising life span for a common garden rat; And do you even know how he lost that toe?"
Harry started to put the pieces together, "And all they could of Pettigrew was…" Sirius looked gleeful, nearly clapping his hands in joy, as Scabbers grew more frantic. Eliza, seeing as this entire situation was making her head spin, tried to move and calm Ron, but Remus stopped her with an arm of her shoulder, shaking his head.
"Give it to him, Ron." Harry demanded of his friend, not breaking a sweat as Sirius snatched the rat from his pale hands, holding him up by his tail, all while Ron is yelling, "Leave him alone."
Eliza watches with bated breath as the two grown wizards try and spell a fat but speedy rat, watching the rodent run between the piano keys and over the floorboards. It was making its way through a hole in the wall when Remus hit the—
"Remus? Sirius?... My old friends!"
It was a man… who'd previously been a rat. He was much to large for that much too tight suit, and the rat like qualities—two front large teeth and a nose that sniffed like a rodent looking for misplaced cheese—and eyes that were all too shocked to be at human height with two angry wizards. Eliza backed herself into the corner near Ron, not wanting to be anywhere near this man.
She watched Peter turn to Harry, sniffing the air, "Harry, you look so much like your father, like James! We were the best of friends."
Sirius snarled, "Don't you speak about James to him!"
"You sold James and Lilly to Voldemort, didn't you!?"
Peter began to wail like an infant, "I—I didn't—mean to! The Dark Lord—you have no idea the weapons he possess." He turns to Sirius, "Ask yourself, Sirius? What would you have done? What would you have done?"
Sirius painfully yelled, "I would've died! I would've died rather than betray my friends!"
Peter could see he was losing this fight, and tried to scope out an escape, but saw something better. He scrambled to Elizabeth's side, falling to his knees and tugging on her skirt, "Elizabeth! Look how you've grown; you look so much like your father. He'd would've protected me—the Dark Lord would listen to you—"
A scream leaves her throat as the rat man is forcefully tossed away from her, Remus shielding her from the quivering mess of a human, "Touch her again and I'll kill you."
"No."
Sirius, Peter and Remus—as well as Eliza peeking over the tall werewolf's shoulder—watched Harry stare down at Peter. "We'll take him to the Castle. Let Dumbledore know what's happened. The Dementor's can have him then."
Peter whimpered and allowed Sirius to bind his body, pushing him to lean against the door.
"A little help here?" Ron squeaked out, gesturing to his leg.
The Dark Lord would listen to you
Those words played through her head in an agonizing mantra, not understanding what they meant. Voldemort was dead, and even then, why would he listen to her? As far as she was concerned, or as far as any memory went back, Voldemort had never been a part of her life—her parents making sure of that. And yet, the desperate words of a rat had her questioning everything.
"Are you alright?"
Merlin, the werewolf her heart had chosen truly was a beautiful one. He'd moved away from Sirius and Harry—Hermione had her wand against Peter's neck, eyes ready for any attempt at escape.
"Yeah, I'm alright… You?"
He nodded, scuffing his shoe on the ground as he moved closer; "I wanted to talk to you, about everything." She scoffed, "I don't think we've all the time in the world for that."
"Elizabeth, please, listen—"
She rounded and stuck her finger in his chest, "No, you listen," he nodded with wide eyes, "I am not a toy, Remus, and I will not allow you to tug me around like this—first you act like you actually had the smallest chance of caring about me and then you tell me to never speak to you again. I won't do this, not with you."
"You have to make a choice, and I'll live with whatever choice that is." The words settle in the ground around them, Remus watching her with an unknown emotion in his eyes as his hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb rubbing the smooth skin there.
"You're all I've ever wanted, Elizabeth."
"Then why did you push me away?" she sniffled, hands longing to bring him close, "I don't—I don't know what's happening, what this is between us but I want to understand—I really do, but you have to talk to me, no more sending me away and no more hiding."
She could see confliction in his eyes and sighed, "Is it because you're a werewolf?" A nod and a defeated sigh were enough to have her pulling him close, whispering, "I don't care about you being a werewolf, Remus…I just care about you. Don't you know that by know, you silly dog?"
"It wouldn't be the first time that my lycanthropy has gotten in the way of things, and I'd only hoped you'd be different."
"And I am," she gushed, this time cupping his cheek and allowing a thumb to trace his scars, "To think, all this time wasted away…"
It was just like it had happened before; the soles of her feet lifting off the ground and falling against his chest, lips seeking his in a desperate attempt to reconcile the time that was lost. The arm wound around her waist grew tighter, nails growing sharper and longer and desperate growls echoing in his chest.
Hermione's desperate cry of her name stopped the kiss before their lips could meet, and Elizabeth turned to watch as the girl pointed to the grotesquely beautiful pale moon.