Disclaimer: Not mine.

His Calling

Chapter 19

A Friend

Remus felt his thumbs tingle and pull inward as his fingers lengthened curling, the second joint snapping, curling forward and forming the pad of a wolf's paw. His legs pulled up underneath him as he rose up on his knees, knowing that sometimes the pain could be less if he could get the weight off his backside when his hips began to adjust, bones cracked and slid to new joints that were tipping out and down. His knees suddenly stiffened. He heard the sound of the back door slam and heard his father's rifle ratchet and not the sound of his kneecaps pushing back, until they forced the bone ends to shatter and protrude to new, backwards knees. He hung his head, panting through his mouth, feeling his skin began to bristle with coarse new hair follicles.

"Riddikulus," he breathed. "Riddikulus"

Something was going wrong this time, he knew it and could feel it. Riddikulus. He stretched his head up and screamed as his sternum cracked and shifted, forcing his chest muscles out and his rib cage to bow. He fell to his side, his arms unable to hold him, his shoulders pulling his spine painfully and his skull altering to accommodate the fit of a four- legged animal, unable to lift its head as a walking man. He wanted his Mum. He wanted to lie in his barn, he raised his head and heard an animal that was not him, howl in pain.

"Riddikulus," he panted, while searching the dark corners with yellow eyes. "Riddikulus."

He twisted and moaned, biting down on his lips, trying, trying as hard as he could to keep in the sound that started in his throat wanting to fill the room. His second scream rose from his belly, deep and feral, an animal in torturous pain. He tried to grab his head as hot spikes of blinding pain hit his eyes and pierced his brain. His arms felt frozen, bone grated on bone, nerve fibres ripped and reattached as new hot burning sinew stretched to pull bone where none belonged.

Riddikulus resounded like a mantra in his mind, Riddikulus.

Remus hung his head, and tilted it sideways, desperate to ease the pain as his skull changed to its new shape, his ears pulling up from his jaw line, eye sockets growing larger, reshaping as the snout created new nasal cavities and restructured the roof of his mouth. He dropped and scraped the side of his head along the dirty floor, a whimper escaping him. Needing to stop the pain, to replace it with something more bearable, he lowered his head and bit the front leg, covered now in grey and black.

"Riddikulus, please Riddikulus," he tried to form the words.

It was lasting longer this time, slower, but at the same time it was moving faster. He tried to take his mind elsewhere, to see Mum's face, to hear her whisper the magic word. Riddikulus. It was faster for the wolf to smell the person that paced above the ground, its smell invading the tunnel, climbing up in the air and reaching him. He growled, a low rumble that reverberated in his throat, the almost neck of the wolf. The creature that was now less than half boy struggled to stand, needing to find his mother, needing her to stop what was happening. He lowered his head and brought up his haunches, getting accustomed to the change in balance.

Riddikulus, he thought, wondering what the word was for.

The wolf stumbled as the boy tried to find how to walk on four legs without his balance in shoulders placed over hips. He panted, as the change seemed to stop, then screamed a howl as he began to convulse, phlegm spewed from his mouth, excrement mixed with blood ran down his hind legs as his internal organs adjusted to the confines of his new body. He cowered and whimpered … then, the full wolf stood, walked to the middle of the room, sat up on its haunches, lifted its snout to the ceiling, and sensing the moon above, howled into the night.

.

Rosmerta sat on the step outside the kitchen door pulling the shawl tighter each time she heard the sounds that carried on the wind. Two months ago she had sat, as she always did during the full moons when school was in, and thought she had heard the whimpering howl of a young cub. Tonight there was no hint of youth in the air, no hint of anything but his future terror.

She stiffened and reached for her wand as someone walked through the brush towards her yard. Standing up, she pointed her wand ready to send a curse at whoever was foolish enough to walk in the woods during a full moon.

"Put it down girlie," Aberforth chuckled. "Ya hex me, ya lose ya best customer."

"Abs, you're going to be your own death, sneaking up on a person that way.

"Weren't sneaking. You heard me just fine." He stepped into the clearing and crossed over to her, sitting down and slapping the step next to him. "Might as well sit, going to be a long night."

She flopped next to him, snapping her head up as another anguished howl filled the night.

"He that little one, one hangs with the Black kid? The one always got his hands shoved in his pockets and looking like he swallowed the canary?"

"Yeah, that would be him," she looked at him from the corner of her eye, puzzled that he would be sitting here with her.

"Never heard the likes of that," he nodded to the north. "Figured it was what we spoke about, needed to make sure he's the one that needs watching."

"It's the wolf. He is taking his body, it happens again in the morning when Remus comes back."

"Nope, ain't heard that before." Aberforth leaned back, resting his elbows on the top step. "Can't imagine that little one having that happen. St. Mungo's used to let them die. Never thought that was right, but hearing this … don't know Rosie if I wouldn't do the same."

They sat until morning, Rosmerta fixing a pot of tea to stave off the cold, Aberforth accio-ing whiskey and dumping the tea from the cups as the sound of Remus' return filled the air. When the sun finally shone, and quiet followed Aberforth stood and stretched.

"Should have gotten to know that husband of your's, Rosie. May not have like him, don't get me wrong, but could have respected him."

She stood as he walked away, wrapping the shawl tighter, feeing the tears in her eyes, and knew Romulus would have liked the old man's honesty. Turning back inside, she began breakfast.

.

.

Madam Pomfrey waited by the tunnel until the sun was almost directly over head before she saw Remus' reach out of the tunnel and feel around for his clothes. She had not realized how nervous she was until she let out a long breath and ran to him. Stilling the Whomping Willow, she knelt down and peered into the darkness.

"It's okay lad, bit of a rough spot. Have to expect that." She stood up as he came crawling out, fighting to remain calm when she saw the backs of his hands grab the soil and pull him forward. "Best fix those hands up before we go back in."

She squatted down to run the wand over his hand. Concentrating on the wounds, she did not see his eyes that still held the look of the wolf, or see his other hand as it came up suddenly and pushed her away, sending her to the ground.

"Leave it!" He crawled forward, and then got up to a crouch, angrily snarling at her. "You lied. You all lied!"

"Remus," she stood up, clasping her hands behind her back to hide her shaking. "You are to dress and report to the infirmary at once."

"Fill out your own reports." He licked his lips, still crouching, leaning forward on his knuckles.

"We need to talk about what…"

"No! I don't want to talk about it. Never again! Do you hear me?"

"You know the rules."

"No! I used to know them. I used to keep my end of it. But they lied to me," he said, his voice beginning to crack.

"How did they lie?" Poppy squatted down to put herself on eye level with the wolf, not wanting to be seen as trying to take an alpha position in case the wolf was still here.

"They said if I tried he wouldn't get my mind, that I could keep being me," his voice hitched with his sobs, and Poppy knew the wolf had gone.

She sat down on the ground and pulled him into her lap. "Shhh, lad. That is the worst of it."

"I don't want it to happen again, make it stop, please make it stop," he hung onto her, crying into her neck. "Don't make me. I'll be good. I promise."

"Ah Lad," she said sadly. "If I could take it away from you and put it on myself I would. You are a good boy. Never, never think for a moment that this is your fault. Do you hurt now?" She felt him shake his head. "Hold out your arms, let's get rid of those teeth marks. We have to find you something else to chew on."

He dutifully pulled up his sleeves and raised his pant legs, and then sat still while she repaired the side of his face that was scraped and showed signs of being dug at with claws.

"I can't do your pictures," he said, as he stood up, watching her scramble up after him. "I don't remember. I don't remember it all. I don't even remember how my face got hurt. My Mum lied too. She said I could stay me if I tried really hard and I tried the hardest ever."

He turned and ran from her, his sobs cutting her. She knew he included her in the deception, and feared that this would be enough to send him home. She followed behind him up the path, he running to his dorm, she seeking out the Headmaster.

Remus ran up the steps to the castle and pounded down the hallways. He rounded the corner and collided with someone coming the opposite way sending them both sprawling onto the ground. He clawed to his knees, sucking in air, looking around at the parchments and books scattered on the floor.

"Leave them alone," Severus pushed him back when he reached out to pick up the parchments.

Severus pulled his wand and trained it on Remus, scowling and then cast an Accio, watching the papers swirl up to his hand. He smugly put his wand in his waistband and stood sneering down at Remus.

"I don't let anyone touch my notebooks, Lupin."

"I wasn't reading them, I was picking them up." He stood up, running a sleeve over his eyes.

"You crying?" Severus looked over his shoulder nervously, looking to see if one if the Professors had witnessed the accident. "You're not hurt, no more than I am. It was your fault you know. You knocked into me."

"Am not crying," he sniffed.

"Sure looks like it," he smirked, again looking down the hallway. "Go on now, before lesson is over. The Slytherins come down to the dungeons this way. Unless you want to be caught down here with them."

"Thanks," Remus started walking away, then stopped and turned around. "Sorry bout… you know."

"Get out of here kid," Severus smirked and walked away.

Remus continued on to his dorm and ran to the shower, tossing off his dirty clothing as he went. He wanted the hot water to soothe his back and ease the pain that still lingered in his chest. He put his face to the showerhead and cried until he sat on the floor of the shower unable to control it any longer. He leaned against the tile and watched the water run down the drain, watching the soapsuds rise to the top as if fighting to get away. His eyes grew heavy and with a deep sigh he slipped in to that place just this side of sleep.

"Remus?" Sirius knelt down next to him. "Remus? You want me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

Remus looked up groggily adjusting his eyes and getting his bearings. Then took the towel out of Sirius hands and got up onto his knees to tie it around his waist.

"No, I …I …no," he stood up and pushed past Sirius, having no excuse for sleeping on the shower floor.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

Sirius grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him to the mirror over the sink, lifting his eyes to his reflection Remus saw the marks of the wolf still clear on his skin.

"Now," Sirius stood next to him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "What happened?"

"I had to go home, my Mum…"

"Bloody hell," Sirius smirked. "No one believes she gets sick all the time. If she were that sick you would have stayed home this term."

"Let me go Black, just stay out of it. It's none of your business anyway." Remus pulled away from him and went out to their room to get clean clothes.

Sirius watched him, studying the angry red welts that ran down Remus' back, grimacing at his swollen shoulders. He saw Remus' intake of breath as he tried to put on his shirt, and stepped up, holding the armholes open for him. Crinkling his nose he looked at the clothes on the floor, and smelled damp earth and blood.

"Did that new dad of yours have a go at you?"

"No," Remus spat. "He would never… no."

Remus walked to the window, keeping his back to Sirius to hide his face that was on the verge of crumbling again.

"Here," Sirius stepped in front of him and began to button his shirt, looking from the buttons up to Remus' face, and back down to the buttons. "My Dad sent me some books. They're on the desk if you want to look at them."

Remus nodded, sucking in his lower lip.

"I told him about the one you got, on the wolves." Sirius saw Remus' eyes snap up and lock with his. "It's sort'ta like your book, but …"

"Shut up Black!" Remus slapped his hands away from his shirt. "It's not like mine. I got mine in a Muggle store and your family wouldn't go there. I know what you have, and it's not like mine at all."

"No, but you are. You're just like it shows in the book."

Remus took a step backwards and swallowed hard. Trying to read Sirius' face, tying to find his wand.

"Quick," Sirius picked up Remus' trousers and held them up for Remus to step into. "Shite, hurry up before everyone gets up here."

Remus looked up into Sirius eyes and could not fathom what he saw. He had never had a friend to trust so completely and utterly as Sirius seemed to expect him to. He could count on one hand those that he felt safe with, and with the pain of the last transformation still on him, and discovery inches a way, he knew the decision he made was right.

Nodding he lifted up his leg and slid it into his trousers, quickly changing legs and putting on the other leg, he let Sirius push him down on the bed and throw a blanket over him.

"Hey, James," Sirius ran to the door, flicking his wand at Remus' clothes that lay scattered on the floor. "I told you he was sleeping. Come on, we can still make lunch."

"What about him?" Peter's voice floated up the stairs.

"Nah, let him sleep. I think he just got in." Sirius thundered down the stairs.

Remus waited until he heard the portrait slide shut before crawling out of bed and getting Sirius' book. He sat on the floor, holding it open in the diamond of his crossed legs and began to read. He saw the first picture of a solitary wolf and hurriedly flipped the pages needing to see the pictures of a wolf with a pack. He needed to see cubs and know that he was not a full-grown wolf, not like he saw on each page. Not like he had felt take him in the shack. He needed to know more. More than what he saw, more than the horrors of what he could do. He needed to know the why, and in knowing the why thought to change it.