Edward regretted his decision instantly. Walking down with a quivering Pettigrew and a lanky Professor, both who were taller than him was not comfortable.
Edward was walking ungainly, tripping over the steps and pulling Pettigrew and Lupin after him like ragdolls.
Or rather, they were the ones pulling him like a ragdoll. Edward winced as the sudden tug of the chains caused him to sprawl face-first onto the ground in an ungainly fashion.
Harry was walking ahead with Black and his face lit up with something that Black had said. Harry nodded and Black's face broke into a true smile, not the maniacal one Edward had seen before.
When they finally broke out of the tunnel and were back on the school grounds, Edward was about to transmute the chains around both Lupin and Pettigrew.
Lupin moved his wand so that Snape was now hovering further away from the group to give themselves more space to move. He was muttering some kind of spell under his breath when suddenly, his grip on the stick tightened.
Edward looked at him in surprise as Lupin's eyes bulged and his whole body was trembling even harder than Pettigrew's.
"He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!" Granger yelled.
"Not safe?" Edward yelled back. What did she mean? He was still chained to the professor and Edward felt like he was holding a timed bomb.
"RUN!" Black shouted.
Harry hesitated and looked at Edward but Black shouted again and the three Gryffindors sprinted off into the forest with Ron hobbling after them, dragging his broken leg behind.
There was a low growl and Edward saw Lupin's head elongate and his body growing thick, coarse fur. The creature swelled up in size and a terrible stink hit Edward's nostrils. That was right before Edward found himself covered in a sticky goop of saliva.
The thing was reminiscent of a wolf, a freakishly huge one which could stand on its hind legs. And possessed the same mobility capabilities of a hunchbacked human.
Still, Edward was surprised when the creature reared back, raised its front paw and swung it at him.
Edward dropped to the floor.
"Since when do wolfs have ball and socket joints in the shoulder!" Edward hissed, clapping his hands and pressing it to the ground.
The earth moaned and tall spikes flashed up from the ground to impale the thing.
"Careful!" Black shouted. "He's still Remus!"
"Well, you do something!" Edward roared back. "I'm not letting him eat my brains!"
"He's not a zombie, you idiot!" Black yelled and he morphed into a black Labrador.
Edward blinked. That was unexpected.
The dog barked loudly and Edward shook his head to clear his confusion. He leapt to his feet and jumped back into the fray.
The dog was nipping at the thing's flank so Edward took it on head-on. He bunched his muscles and vaulted himself into the air. Edward pulled his arm up into the air and brought it down onto the creature's muzzle with a satisfying crunch.
It did not faze the thing one bit. The creature howled in annoyance and snapped at Edward. Its jaw closed around Edward's automail arm.
"Having a good bite?" Edward snarled.
That was when all the abuse from the Quidditch tournament after being hit by a bludger, all the ramming of his arm into things and people's faces culminated in the armour plate cracking.
"Oh crap, you did have a good bite," Edward muttered as the plate cracked and the teeth sunk into the wire connections.
It was being set fire to. Edward screamed as thousands of nerves sent pain signals to his brain. The thing did not bite down fully so the nerve connections were not totally lost. Which made it worse. There was no respite from the pain.
Edward did not feel the teeth release him. Neither did he feel the ground under him until he regained his senses a while later and saw Black offering him a hand.
"We have to go, quick." Black hissed. There was panic and urgency in his voice.
"Where?" Edward asked groggily.
"He's gone. They scared him away."
"They?" Edward asked stupidly again even though he knew who they were. He could feel their presence already.
He scrambled awkwardly to his feet and tried not to wobble. The coldness was not helping, making his stomach churn. The purple lights were flickering into life all around him.
"Let's go," Edward said, gritting his teeth and moving towards the lake away from the source of the coldness.
Black had a large gash on his shoulder and he winced as he tried to move as fast as Edward. Edward had a brief selfish moment where he refused to slow down and move away from them as far away as he could. There was no way he was going to see his mistake as real as life again.
There was also no way he was going to make another stupid mistake. Edward slung Black's arm over his shoulder and despite his nerves screeching at him, Edward pulled the both of them across the damp ground.
They seemed to be making no progress at all. The lake seemed to stretch further and further away and the coldness crept closer in a quiet but swift manner.
"COME ON!" Edward shouted in frustration as he felt his limbs grow heavy. Black seemed to have turned into iron in the past few seconds and Edward sagged into the ground. He was kneeling on one knee, head bowed in bone-deep fatigue and coldness.
"Move, Ed," Edward chanted to himself. But he sounded weak and feeble and he wanted to close his eyes.
The purple lights flared up around him and then Black was not around his shoulder anymore.
"Illusion, illusion," Edward chanted. He groped around in his robes for his stick. He needed to think happy. Think of Al. Remember how Al had smuggled a burger and a warm cup of coffee for you at Youswell when the villagers chased you out. Edward smiled weakly at the memory. He had been starving but it was not the food but the companionship of his brother that made him feel comfortable to sleep outdoors.
The stick. It was not in his robes. Edward had left them in his drawer.
The night at Youswell. It was cold.
The purple lights flared even brighter and ice crawled down Edward's arms. He swore that he could feel his automail arm freeze.
"Expecto patronum," Edward muttered, but his lips would not move. Not that it mattered anyway.
Edward expected the thing he had created years ago to rise up from the ground but nothing came up this time.
He was so cold.
A wispy figure was floating into his field of vision and Edward made a pathetic sound of protest as scaly hands grabbed his chin. It felt like rubbing a cold, raw fish over his face.
The hands moved away and Edward slumped into the sodden earth. The hood was pulled back. It looked like someone had put a piece of rotting meat into the mixer and the result was passed off for a face.
The skin was scabbed, loose and the face looked as if a sculptor had smashed his statue halfway during the creation. Edward was really cold. But he could not give up now. He had to think of Al. Al who was there for him, Al who was waiting for him to go back home. He had to think of Winry. He had to let Winry kill him for destroying the automail, not this thing.
Edward growled and was surprised that he sounded like a wild animal. He pushed the dementor away from him.
The dementor moved backwards gracefully. Edward shook his head violently and clapped his hands.
"Did anyone tell you that makeup can bring out your best features?" Edward said, spreading his hands open into the air. He had been practicing this new trick since the Quidditch match.
"Well, you don't seem to have any!"
The wind built up around him and the air condensed at one point. It flashed towards the dementor like a sharp blade.
Without seeing his handiwork, Edward clapped his hands again and slapped them into the ground, drawing an iron lance from the ground. He was near the lake, which was full of minerals, so he integrated chromium into the blade to increase hardenability and nickel to make it tougher.
The purple lights danced and shimmered along the lance's blade.
The dementor had barely been able to dodge the wind blade and part of its cloak was shredded to expose more rotting meat.
Edward pointed his lance forward, ignoring the stiffness in his joints from the cold.
There was a tense pause where both Edward and the thing did not move. Then, as if on cue, they both pounced towards the other with the intent to destroy.