Epilogue of Owl Post
The last blood-red rays of the setting Sun reflected in the waves of Centaur Creek as it ran into the big lake. Remus Lupin looked up, watching Hogwarts castle in the distance. He heard a wolf howl in the Forbidden Forest, and it made him shiver. Soon he would be howling like that animal, too.
In his mouth, he could still feel the horrible taste of the wondrous potion that would help him not to be a threat, that would make his transformation bearable. In theory, he could curl up in his own office, but he felt safer with the idea of hiding in the Shrieking Shack again. Back when he was a child, Professor McGonagall always brought him there. Only in third year did he understand why, when they learnt about animagi in Transfiguration class, and the Head of Gryffindor House turned into a cat in front of them. That had explained why she wasn't afraid of the werewolf child, but his friends, James, Sirius and Peter, took the concept one more step forward, so that they wouldn't need to leave him to fight the horrors by himself.
The moon was not yet up, but the wind was already colder. Lupin reached for the letter he was hiding in the inside pocket of his old jacket. It was too dark to read, and he didn't want to use magic, so that he wouldn't attract any attention, but he could still make out the lines, the familiar curves of his last friend's handwriting.
He remembered every word of the letter, anyway. Sirius had asked him to come to the far shore of the lake, to the spot where they had once released chocolate frogs, in hopes of breeding them for more chocolate. Back then, Peter had suggested they put an inedibility charm on them, but James pointed out it might be inhereditary, meaning the whole effort would be for nothing. Now Sirius had asked him to come here, on the first day of the first full moon he would spend at Hogwarts, to remember the good days of lost innocence.
Of course, Sirius would never know if he didn't come, Remus bitterly thought. But exactly because of Padfoot's imprisonment, he felt compelled to come, to remember, for all three of them. For James, who died, for Sirius, who was unjustly sent to Azkaban, and even for Peter, who had been hiding as a rat from everybody.
The sky was turning darker, but the northern wind was icier than it would have been natural. Looking north, he spotted three dark figures floating, as if they were incredibly large falling leaves, although a lot more sinister in nature. Of course, he recognized what they were: the foul non-beings that guard the wizarding prison. They suck all hope and joy out of everyone in their reach, apparently, they must have accessed Padfoot's mind when he had sent his last mail. Remus steadied his wand, not sure if he would have time to use it before the Moon rose.
Then his jaw dropped. As the dementors came closer, he noticed one of them was carrying something large with one hand. It could have been a man, or maybe a large dog. In fact, it was both.
One dementor, a skinny and fast one, passed the staring not-yet-a-werewolf, and stopped at the end of the clearing with a triple loop. The other, majestic one, settled in the shadow of a large wand-giving oak, and his breath filled the area with an aura of cold and despair. The third one released the dog at the shore.
Remus could not believe his eyes, but the happy barking could not have come from anyone else but Padfoot. The dog galloped to him, rising to two feet at the last meter. Sirius shouted his name, embracing the werewolf. Mischief was still shining in his blue eyes.
"Padfoot..." the teacher gaped.
"Yes, in person. Moony, I missed you so much!"
They spent half a minute in brotherly huggle, one wizard in torn, striped uniform, the other, in his old brown jacket.
"How did you achieve this?" Remus asked. "I mean, Azkaban's security is legendary."
"So are the ghosts of the Shack, if you remember," Sirius replied. "Moony, this is Daire, my assigned company. The athletic one…" Sirius looked here and there, he eventually found the dark figure hovering over the water, chasing grindylows. "Who can't wait to have his cloak laced by the merfolk, is Skipps. The third... Oh, he doesn't wish to be introduced. Daire, this is Moony, best friend of mine since I was eleven."
Remus looked up at the monster. It appeared huge, almost twelve feet high, and its breath made his bones freeze.
"You can't mean you befriended these creatures?"
"They befriended me," Sirius replied. "And since we know they don't affect werewolves at full moon, they wholeheartedly supported the idea of a night out."
"These things have more eyes than heart." But Remus could not argue the statement about their effect: he only had a vague, instinctive aversion instead of the horror of fears and bad memories a normal wizard would be going through. Of course, the moon was already rising, and it had a lot worse consequence on him than any magical creature would.
Padfoot, apparently unbothered by the bulky dementor, was already in dog form, wagging his tail and barking excitedly. He was so thin, so shaggy, yet... So himself.
Come what may, Remus decided, he would spend this night in better company than he had in the past twelve years.
It wasn't like he ever had a choice.