Memories

The long-past events flash past me

All memorable, stored away to be

My memories, more precious than water

When they're gone, nothing'll come back later

Since the funeral, Skye was just another snowy owl haunting the night skies of Britain. She no longer held any hope of being recognized. James was dead. Lily was dead. Sirius was locked up in Azkaban without trial. Skye recalled vividly the day she took a peek at a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet.

The headlines on the cover froze her blood: Voldemort's right hand in Azkaban for life. She had been so sure that Sirius would not be found guilty, so sure that he would be cleared. After all, he did not have the Dark Mark! That hope died.

Peter – Wormtail the rat – was a traitor. The traitor. He gave away James and Lily. He was the reason they were now lying in a graveyard. The one beside Godric's Hollow. And Remus, Remus did not accept her as alive.

The days alone took their toll on Amurila. She was losing her humanity. Some days she did not know who she was. Other days she did, but it made no difference. Skye was still an owl, still ate frogs and rats, still flew more than walked. Still was forgotten by the wizarding world in general.

One night, as Skye flew in search of her next meal, a sound startled her. It was two years since she became an owl, and time had already stored Amurila away. But the sound she heard, it stirred the memories in their depth. It was the howl of a werewolf.

How did I know that? She wondered briefly. the answer coming to her like lightning streaking across the sky. Because I've heard it so many times before, when Remus howled at the moon.

Remus. Remus Lupin. One of her best friends. And it all came flooding back to her in one startling clarity. She was not Skye the owl. She was a human. A human named Amurila Magurall.

Glancing around. She registered with another shock that she was in the woods right beside Remus's cottage. So it was his howl she had heard. The full moon hung overhead like a crystal ball, illuminating a dark shadow slipping through the trees. Making up her mind in an instant, Skye swooped down.

For the first time in more than two years, Remus Lupin did not wake up exhausted and covered in his own scratches.

For the first time, too, in that amount of time, Amurila Magurall remembered snatches of her past.

First year holidays, on the Hogwarts Express back to King's Cross:

James opened his mouth slowly, "Remus – "

The boy – the young werewolf – turned. "Yes?" he sounded almost afraid to hear the answer.

"You're a werewolf, right?" Sirius jumped in bluntly, cutting straight to the point.

Remus froze. Four pairs of eyes were on him. Waiting, holding their breaths, for his answer. "I … yes."

Ariel swallowed. They had known, had known he would say yes, but there was always a part of tem that wished they were mistaken. That Remus's mother really was sick during every full moon. But that would make her a werewolf…

"So," they all stared at Remus, who looked down and continued, "I guess I'd better go find another compartment then." He stood up.

And a pair of strong hands pushed him down again. "Remus, what for?" Sirius stared at him, looking slightly surprised.

"Doesn't … doesn't it frighten you that I'm a werewolf?" Remus asked, shocked. No one, besides his parents and the Hogwarts staff, had ever stayed closer to him than was necessary, when they found out he had the affliction.

Sirius gave a short, bark-like laugh, "Well, seeing where I was born, in the noble House of Black, I can hardly be judging you."

James snorted quietly, "Remus, my parents aren't prejudiced. And neither am I."

Ariel could see the hope shining in the boy's amber eyes as she spoke, "Don't worry. If there's someone who doesn't loath werewolves, that'll be me."

Everyone turned expectant eyes on Peter. "Er … I think I can live with that. After all, what are friends for?" he squeaked.

James clapped him on the back, "Well said, Peter. Spoken like a true Griffindor and friend!" Peter flushed with pleasure.

A true smile broke Remus's face. He had expected them to abandon him. But they did not, and that was the important thing.

Fifth year, Christmas holidays

"All staying?" Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at their remarkable behaviour.

"All staying," Remus affirmed, "and no, Professor, we aren't planning to blow Hogwarts up or anything."

"I'm glad to hear that," was the reply as the Marauders grinned at each other.

That night, the five met up in the fifth year boys' dormitory again, like so many nights before that. To try and become Animagi. No matter how illegal it was.

James, Sirius and Ariel could all do it. But not Peter – yet. James was a magnificent reddish-brown stag. Sirius was a huge black dog not unlike the Grim. Ariel was a snowy white owl. And Peter was supposed to be a small little rat.

"Concentrate, Peter," Sirius sighed.

"I'm … trying," Peter's eyes were tightly shut and his hands clenched.

"You've got to relax," Ariel spoke up. She placed her hands on his shoulders and felt the muscles loosen up.

"Think about the rat," Remus advised, "imagine you are it. Block everything else out."

Peter must have did, because within minutes, a small grey rat stood in front of them.

"Silencio!" James called over the cheering, pointing his wand at the dormitory door. They certainly did not want to wake the whole House up.

When Peter turned back, everyone clapped him on the back. After all, his worst subject was Transfiguration, but yet he managed an advanced piece of Transfiguration. "Imagine McGonagall's face if we told her that Peter's an Animagi!" Sirius's words earned laughs from everyone.

Remus would never be alone on full moon nights again.

The sun rose just as Skye left Remus. The wall that had once separated her from her memories was demolished. All night long, she was flooded with them. Some were sweet, some were bitter, but all reminded her of the person she was.

As Skye settled down to wait eight long years, when Harry would go to Hogwarts, she knew that she would never forget herself again. Thanks to her memories.