Chapter 36

I KNOW I'M AWFUL! 5 months later, I finally finish it off. I wasn't trying to be suspenseful or anything - I was busy with finishing up the spring semester. Also, I felt a lot of weird anxiety about finishing my first story ever, not even just fanfic. It was weird seeing something finally finished. There were bumps along the way, but I can't believe I actually got to tell this entire story. If you've been following this story, thanks so much! It truly means a lot to me. I appreciate it soooo much! I hope this ending fulfills or settles you readers in some way or another!

Still April 1st, 1977

Some say that the Hufflepuffs is the dullest house of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Some consider them to be the lazy ones or the push-overs. Others call them the stoners. Despite whatever one believed about Helga Hufflepuff's long line of students, no one could deny that they threw a nice party.

The Kitchen was a large rectangular cellar in the basement of the castle. Most of the island wooden tables in the center had been moved aside except one in the middle with an ivory and crème sheet placed over it. There was spread of wines, cheeses, bread, chips, and a bunch of other snacks and booze. There was even a double-layered strawberry shortcake in the center with sparkling candles. The Beatles' "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" boomed through the cellar. It was like a dream birthday.

Sirius Black sucked his teeth as he entered the room of sweating and drunk teenagers. It was out of resentment because Sirius was sweating for an entirely different reason. He had just run (Sirius does not run) to the party - not for booze, sex, or drugs, but for people: his people.

Sirius wafted through partially naked bodies and curious odors and eventually found his best mate in the midst. James Potter was spinning Lily Evans in circles, smiling like God bestowed the speckled idiot with a holy favor. It was a special thing, seeing James that elated. Only a few things could make James Potter smile like that. And truthfully, Sirius didn't want to be the reason to take it away.

But pricks before chicks.

Sirius slithered through the crowd and tapped James' sweaty shoulder discretely. When that didn't work, Sirius let out a quiet and ineffective "ahem." He rolled his eyes because clearly, they were both intoxicated beyond reason. For Merlin's sake, Lily was publically grinding on James like it was some go-go club in London's East End.

Sirius decided it was the final straw when James spun Lily around. He was going in to snog her, and once he got to that intimate point, there was no separating them. "Oy! Okay, okay!" He said, physically pushing the two apart like a parent chaperone at a debutante ball.

"Sirius," James hissed, spraying his friend with an embarrassing amount of saliva. "This better be g-good." Oh, the Quidditch Captain was mighty drunk.

"Oh, it is," insisted Sirius.

"Is it better than Evans actually dancing with me in public?" James countered.

"Hey, I'm right here," Lily said obviously, punching James in the arm.

"Mate, I'm all for your public displays of affection, but right now we got a problem. A furry one."

"A fire-y one?" Lily asked, squinting her eyes like that would make her hearing somehow better. Merlin, she was drunk too. Now Sirius was talking to two horny drunk imbeciles.

James understood it. He stood a little straighter and scratched his head – a sign of concentration. "It's not supposed to come for another three days," he said quietly.

"Yeah, well, Pomfrey said she saw a tail forming before she left him in the shack."

"Bloody Hell," James said, wiping his hand over his face.

"Are you lot referring to Remus?" Lily asked as she took another swig of her cocktail. It smelled a lot like firewhiskey and pumpkin juice.

Sirius and James both gave Lily a look; it was like Lily had just spoken Parsletongue or revealed her true form as a devil. The shorter of the boys recovered from that shock quicker and said, "I'm not even going to ask how you know that bit of information, or why you seem to know so many of our secrets, because that seems like too much of an ego blow for me."

"Remus' 'problem' is a bit… obvious. I mean, a sick mum? Is that the best he and Dumbledore could come up with?"

"That part is actually true," James said softly.

Lily blinked. "Well, now, I'm officially an arse."

"You're not that much of one," Sirius said quickly. "Anyway, can you do me a favor then? It'll help your guilt ease."

"Of course," Lily nodded, excited by the idea of an assignment.

"Go find Marlene for me."

Lily blinked again. "I don't see how this will help Remus' early predicament."

"Find her and her brother."

"Why?"

"Because I need a ligilmens to find Dorcas Meadowes."

"Whoa, whoa," James said putting up his hands. He took his friends out of the crowd because now things were just getting too out of hand. Once they were in a less-populated spot, James finally asked, "What the fuck is going on? I thought this was about Remus."

"It's a little more complicated than that," Sirius said, taking a deep breath. "All right, I'm only saying this once. So, stick with me, all right? It seems like it's too much of a coincidence that on the same night of Remus' early shift that Dorcas isn't at this party. Something smells… reptilian, if you ask me. Also, have you noticed that there aren't of those Slytherin gits at this party? Like where's Mulciber, Avery, and Parkinson?"

"They could've just not been invited," James said simply.

"It's already midnight," Sirius countered. "If Parkinson isn't busy doing whatever is he currently doing, then he would've already been here to break up the party. Because he's a gigantic git."

Lily was too drunk to refute, and simply nodded her head in unison.

"Also, Dorcas is now friends with your lot, so she's always invited to everything."

"Maybe she's sleeping?" She offered. "You know she has an erratic sleep schedule ever since she wrecked her head by opening her mind's eye, or whatever. Then, there's the additional fact that Voldemort –"

"Merlin, Lily," James grunted at the name.

"- is trying to break her from the inside out for some reason. She's tired," Lily finished, waving her hands around. Perhaps she thought the extra movement made her seem more rational.

"She may be tired, but as a fellow budding alcoholic, I know for a fact that Dorcas would've been here, or at least made an appearance to snatch some free booze," Sirius finished as if it were obvious.

She was about to counter, but Lily saw the look on Sirius' face. The normally handsome boy looked anxious as he kept grabbing for his collar. His leg was shaking too. Lily had seen a pissed-off Sirius, a drunk Sirius, a malicious Sirius, but never a scared Sirius. He was genuinely worried for his friends.

"Okay, I'll go get her," Lily said, putting a reassuring hand on Sirius' shoulder. She looked to James and then back to Sirius with a determined look. "I'll meet you lot outside, by the Forbidden Forest?"

Sirius and James exchanged glances. It's not that James didn't trust Lily; it's just that he never expected to tell anyone to meet him before entering the Shack. "Whomping Willow," he corrected.

Lily raised a brow but didn't question it. She instead simply nodded before running off into the crowd.

Sirius looked to James, watching him watch her run away. "She's about to see a lot of shite she can't unsee, James," he noted. "You ready for the consequences?"

James closed his eyes and then opened them after a long moment. "We don't have a choice – we got to find Remus."

Dorcas Meadowes enjoyed choices. She was the type of girl (since a very young age) that did not like to be limited. As a child, she had to live with lots of people telling her exactly what to do: how to sit, how to eat, and how to not act like a bloody freak. It caused a lot of mayhem and acting out, but mainly that kind of life created an opinionated person.

So, with all of that, Dorcas had a clear issue with being tied against a tree in the fucking Forbidden Forest. Her shoulders felt strained for being so open, and her wrists turned a bright red from all the friction. Also, the girl's ego had sunk to a new low. Who got hit with a sleeping spell while already napping? That was cruel and unusual.

The worst part of it all was that she had been there for more than thirty minutes, and her captors still had not shown their faces. When would the bloody cowards show their faces.

Dorcas' legs shivered as a gust of wind flew by, so she curled them into her chest. She looked around her surroundings and finally saw some movement. Or, maybe that was wishful thinking.

In an attempt to hear better, Dorcas closed her eyes and listened for unspoken voices. It defied her training with Max, but seeing as she was captured, there was no choice but to use all of her senses.

At first, there was nothing. Just wind. But the wind howling slowly turned into static, like the radio did on stormy nights at Hogwarts. Through the static, Dorcas heard a voice: a loud and dull voice. Worst of all, it sounded familiar like she had been in this head before. She shut her eyes tighter, trying to listen on in. But instead, she got a visual – it was herself tied against the tree. Seeing herself helpless made her shiver, but it made her watcher excited… aroused even.

Dorcas felt like vomiting.

"I know you're out there, Evan Rosier!" Dorcas declared over the gusts of wind.

The feeling in the boy's head twitched from arousal to anger. Good, Dorcas thought, the angrier the stupider.

A dark clothed large body appeared out from behind a tree. Dorcas tried not to gasp seeing her housemate in a Death Eater's uniform: mask, cloak, and hat. Although she was not surprised, she could not lie that she was fucking terrified.

"How'd you know it was me?" Evan asked as he walked closer to her.

"You kidnapped me," Dorcas countered, trying her best to remain level, "You must know what I am."

"You are an abomination and a disgrace on this house," he spat. Saliva actually hit her in the face, almost in the eyes, and Dorcas has never felt like lobotomizing someone until now.

"I could care less what you think, Rosier. You disgust me. Every part of you."

"Don't you want to know why you're sitting here, tied up against this tree?"

Dorcas knew he had a point – she should figure out why she was stranded here. But, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction on waiting on him to make the big reveal. "I don't need your words to tell me," she said sharply before kicking him directly in the knee.

Evan let out a sharp, loud grunt of pain as he fell to the ground. He cradled his knee and scooted away from Dorcas. Since he was distracted and would be for the next few moments, she utilized this opportunity to force her way into the deepest parts of his mind. Not that it was too deep to begin with.

Dorcas saw what Rosier had done. He snuck into the girls' dormitory with the help of Avery and cast a wickedly strong sleeping spell on her. Avery pulled Dorcas out of the room by her arms, tossing her over onto Rosier's shoulder. Using an invisible charm when necessary, Rosier managed to sneak out of Hogwarts castle undetected before tying her up against this very tree.

But, Dorcas needed to go further than that. She only saw action, not motive. She concentrated harder, enough to make her head throb. As she went further into Rosier's mind, she found him conspiring with two other blurry figures. They quickly became clear: Mulciber and Parkinson. Dorcas couldn't make out any other words besides the Shack and Lord Voldemort.

As she tried to clear out the muddled thoughts, Dorcas lost her vision and was replaced with a burning sensation like no other. She screamed as her mind went blank, only able to concentrate on her pain.

This was the cruciatus curse.

"F-fack Black, and curse his entire family lot," Marlene McKinnon garbled as she took another shot of Firewhiskey. She threw down the empty glass bottle in a trash bin as she strode down the castle hallway quickly alongside Lily Evans.

"Marlene, will you hurry up?" Lily insisted, picking up her speed.

"I mean, of course the bloke has to need my attention when I'm snogging Cattermole," grumbled Marlene. She let her curly blond hair down from her ponytail to hide the red marks on her neck. "He must have ego-meter the size of his prick."

"Okay, gross," Lily said absently, trying not to think too much about Sirius Black's penis. They reached Max McKinnon's quarters and banged on the door loudly. After a few moments, the young professor appeared in a pair of sweat pants with a rolled cigarette on his lips. He had a book in hand: "The Art of War."

Max immediately glared at both of the girls, but focused on his younger sister. "This is definitely against some sort of academic moral code. You reek."

"And you reek of tobacco and weed," Marlene countered hotly, "nobody is perfect, Max." She smiled like the Devil.

"It's past midnight," Max sighed. "Whatever it is, it better be good."

"It's Dorcas," Lily said firmly, knowing that would be enough to grab the Professor's attention. And it did.

"What happened?" Max asked quickly, standing a bit taller now.

"What is it about Dorcas that make blokes think she constantly needs saving?" Marlene asked, completely serious and completely irritated. "I doubt her cunny screams 'damsel-in-distress.'"

Max ignored her, knowing that she was inebriated beyond saving, as he shoved the door open wider for the two girls to come in.

"She's missing," Lily explained quickly. "And we think it may have to do with an impeding full moon."

He looked up with wide eyes as he put on his boots. When he noted the gravity in Lily's green eyes, he moved faster with his laces. "The moon isn't full tonight," Max noted absently as he threw on his sweatshirt.

"Pomfrey had to move him to the Shack," Marlene continued as she drank some water from her brother's goblet. She too already had some preconceiving notions about Remus' monthly trips to visit his ill mother. In her subtlest fashion, she'd openly read pieces from the Alchemist Archive about Lycanthorpy in front of James during family holidays to see if he'd ever spill the tea. Instead, he'd just shut up and find an article about Quidditch or music.

Max took a final hit from his spliff before closing his eyes and really inhaling. Lily wanted to question if mixing drugs with ligilmens would be beneficial in such a pressing time, but Marlene put her hand up. She gave Lily a look saying, Let him work.

After a moment, Max's eyes popped open and smoke poured from his nostrils. He grabbed his wand and said, "She's by the Shrieking Shack, the north side by the tracks." He was out of the door in seconds.

"How the hell…" Lily whispered, following after him.

"T-tobacco increases one's control of their ligilmency," Marlene explained, panting from even the slightest movement. "Why do you think Dorcas smokes so much?"

"Please, Mary," insisted James as he followed Mary MacDonald and Emmeline Vance around like a lost puppy. He clasped his hands together as if he were praying to a God he did not believe in, "It's extremely important."

The Hufflepuff girls exchanged glanced before stopping to look at the extremely impatient James Potter. They were both a bit crossfaded and their vision was a bit blurry, but that didn't mean they were entirely stupid. James barely spoke to them outside of the presence or when discussing a certain redhead. But now, his nervousness and the quickness in his words made them nervous too. Also, his pleas were intense.

"Can you at least tell me what I should say to Dumbledore?" Mary asked skeptically. "And do I really need to involve Caradoc?"

James let out a huff. He had sent Sirius ahead to get Peter, so that the two could go be with Remus. He'd join them in a minute. If Sirius' speculations about MIA Dorcas were true, he'd need help from the Headmaster. Kidnapping was a capital offense, and he wanted to oust Dorcas' captors, or the Anti-Usupers, for good.

"Tell him that there is a problem with the shack regarding the Slytherin student," he replied urgently. "Caradoc can get you the password into Dumbledore's chamber."

"There are literally hundreds of Slytherins," Emmeline countered irritably. "Can we be a little more specific."

"Trust me, he'll know," James said. "Now, can you two do this for me? I'm begging you."

Emmeline and Mary exchanged glances once more, but eventually Mary said, with a slight smile, "Go, Potter. We'll get Dumbledore and Caradoc. You go do… whatever mischief you need to do."

James let out a sigh of relief. "I always manage my mischief, Mary, and thank you," he said before dashing off to join his friends.

Peter Pettigrew made an excellent rat. He surpassed through the Whomping Willow's branches with ease. If James and Sirius were excellent fliers, Peter was an excellent dodger. Once he hit the knot at the base with his tiny paw, the tree mellowed allowing Sirius, as a large black dog, to run towards the tunnel entrance. He only paused to allow Peter to climb up his hindlegs and onto his back. Together, the rat and the dog sped through the tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack.

After three years of learning this tunnel, Sirius ran with ease. He was much faster as a dog in comparison to his human state. (Again, Human Sirius didn't run.) The black dog maneuvered past ditches and vines to reach the other exit in a matter of minutes.

Once they reached the dark ending, both animals could hear the howling and screaming from the shack. The shrill noise ricocheted through the trees, leaving a familiar echo in this distance. It sounded like a madman tearing out pieces of his own skin.

Well, that's exactly what it was happening to Remus Lupin. The Marauders hadn't seen Remus transform with their own eyes, because Remus says, "it's fucking personal." They've heard it plenty of times, and tonight, it sounded worse. The screams were louder and more frantic. It made the boys tense, and they found themselves bursting through the shack's already broken door.

Sirius and Peter were planning on transforming back to their human selves, hoping that may help Remus calm down. Normally they would never dare to but since pre-lunar transformations were happening, they thought all bets were off. However, the creaky ceiling and the shakes coming from upstairs quickly foiled those hopes.

The boy upstairs was no longer a hormonal sixteen-year old or their friend; he was just an agitated beast. The beast howled into the night right before the banging stopped. The dog and the rat hesitated before moving up the failing wooden staircase; the silence unnerved them. The canine could feel the rodent quiver with fear as light footsteps creaked upstairs.

Around the corner, the beast slowly appeared at the top of the stairs. Werewolves were generally feral and terrifying creatures, visually, but in the presence of other animals, they were perhaps just a bit easier on the eyes. However, now the wolf was salvating and panting. It looked hungry.

If the black dog could've talked, it would've said, "Fucking Balls," before running out of the shack with the rat on its back.

"Fucking men," Dorcas grumbled as she rolled her eyes.

Evan Rosier was caressing his knee, still wounded (physically and emotionally) by Dorcas' accurate kick. He glared at her and had a clever comeback that never got out since two more figures appeared in this distance.

"Why the fuck are you on the floor?" Mulciber asked, trying to contain his laughter.

"The bitch kicked my knee in," grumbled Rosier. "Look – I think it's swollen."

Parkinson ignored his housemates, while Mulciber just laughed. The seventh year prefect bent down to meet Dorcas eye-level. The other two housemates did not scare Dorcas in the slightest – they did repulse her – but it was Parkinson who actually scared her. He was quiet, cool, and calculative. Dorcas imagined that this is what evil looked like.

"I've seen the Dark Lord before," Parkinson said, casually as if discussing the latest edition of the Prophet.

"Poor you," Dorcas muttered, trying her best to remain unphased by the close proximity.

He continued coolly, "He reeks of power, standing in his presence is like standing before a god. You can feel his greatness – it's in his blood."

"Why am I tied up, Parkinson?" Dorcas had already tried entering Parkinson's mind for information, but he had a defensive mind, incredibly more so than Rosier. It was like looking through a frosted window, only blurry movements and no clarity.

"The Dark Lord wants all of his new disciples to learn at least some form of occlumency, especially the ones in Hogwarts. He doesn't want Dumber-dore or anyone else getting into our heads. Especially you."

"You might need to up Rosier's game," Dorcas suggested.

"Yes, this I know," sighed Parkinson. He peeked back at a whining Rosier before rolling his eyes. "Not much in there to hide."

"Why is He after me? I want nothing to do with him – I don't want to take over his stupid army of inbreds and blood supremacists. I have nothing to do with Mason Nagut."

Parkinson blinked at her a few times, as if she had spoken an entirely foreign language. He looked back to Mulciber and Rosier in shock before laughing. He found Dorcas' words to be so amusing that he even bent over clutching his stomach. The other two joined in after a moment too.

"What?" She shouted. "He has no relation to me at all, except for attacking my mother."

Parkinson wiped a tear away with a handkerchief from his pocket. His laughed died down before saying, "The Dark Lord does not agree. You have everything to do with Nagut. Everything, Meadowes. You are Nagut's blood."

Dorcas gulped and decided to stay quiet. She wanted to shout at the idea of sharing blood with the man who literally destroyed her entire life by creating it. But, she also needed answers, and this time she had to wait for them.

"Have you ever heard of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?" Parkinson added tauntingly.

"Of course I have," Dorcas said impatiently. "You lot can never shut up about it."

"Yes, we are a proud bunch-"

"It's a ruddy stupid list if you ask me. I mean, what's-his-name forgot a lot of families. The Potters and the Cattermoles aren't even on there – how legitimate can it be?" Before Dorcas could get an answer, she let out a yelp. It was high-pitched and even shocking to her, because Holy Shit, she had just been smacked across the face.

"Shut. Your. Mouth. Meadowes," Parkinson said through clenched teeth, holding her chin so that she had to look him in the eyes. "You have no idea how important this is, the gravity of that list."

Dorcas' jaw remained clamped. She ripped her face away, refusing to be held by this sociopath.

"There is a name on there that is long gone – they say the family has been extinct for almost fifty years," Parkinson said, standing up. He stood a little taller this time, rolled his shoulders back and began to pace. "They say they were the last heirs of Salzar Slytherin."

"That's a big claim," Dorcas muttered through her teeth.

"The last name is Gaunt. This is the Lord's surname."

Dorcas raised her eyebrows but kept her gaze lowered. She reasoned that this was why Voldemort had such a large stick up his arse. According to old pureblood mythology, Voldemort was a prince.

"There are no more Gaunts besides the Dark Lord," Parkinson continued to explain. "And the Dark Lord prides himself as the heir, as did many of the Gaunts did. But alas, he believes he is wrong about being the final heir."

Dorcas finally looked up to meet Parkinson's eyes. She ground her teeth before asking in a calm, yet shaky voice, "Nagut was…."

"You're a smart person, Meadowes, albeit a dirty one," smirked Parkinson, like a condescending profressor. "I've seen your marks during the OWLs. Come on, put it together."

Dorcas' mind raced because she was ruddy tired of this game. There was no point in trying to enter in his mind because it was too well-guarded. So, she just used her natural resources, remembering psychoanalysis books she had read during boring summers.

Voldemort was most definitely homicidal sociopath. Sociopaths normally lack in interpersonal connections, or pursue their actions based on a faulty interpersonal connection. Maybe Voldemort's only connection to magic was based off of being a Gaunt. That'd be sad. But, he would protect it. So, if he thought that there was another Gaunt, a competitor…

"Nagut…" Dorcas murmured softly. As she finally said the name, the vision of the serpent-wrapped house appeared in her head. "Nagut is an anagram for…"

"For Gaunt," Parkinson smiled, clapping his hands together slowly.

Dorcas couldn't breathe, and it suddenly felt like a bunch of rocks were being thrown at her chest. Before she had time to scream, before she had time to cry, before she had time to have bloody identity crisis, Dorcas heard a howl. It wasn't a wolf or a coyote; it sounded too loud, too feral, and too damn close.

"Oy," Mulciber said, patting Parkinson's shoulder. "Here is yours." He passed his elder classmen a small vial of ivory liquid. From what Dorcas could see in this night, she noticed it was thicky and pasty with chunks. Parkinson popped the cork off and gulped it down in one shot. The two others groaned at the taste, while Parkinson just shrugged.

"What's that?" Dorcas asked quickly.

"A nice concoction our friend made for us," Parkinson said coolly. He chucked the vial to the ground and added, "A bunch of different ingredients, but the most prominent one is Wolfsbane."

Dorcas' eyes widened. Like clockwork, another howl echoed through the forest. It sounded closer this time. "The M-moon isn't not coming for another few days," she whispered. She didn't want to acknowledge how desparate she sounded.

"We had that altered as well," smirked Parkinson. "We have some very talented youth in Slytherin House. Well, your paternal ancestor's house."

A/N - And there's a part II to this chapter. Hope that makes up for lost time!