The funny thing about fear was that it was pretty easy to become desensitized.

Remus often found that, while he was waiting for the full moon to rise, there was a period of time in which he didn't feel anything at all. Well, yeah, he still felt terrible. He was still shaking and hurting and aching all over. But he couldn't be terrified the whole time. The terror swung a bit like a pendulum—Remus would be absolutely out of his mind with fear for a few moments, and then it would decrease, and then he wouldn't feel anything at all. The transformation would happen either way, and fear wouldn't stop it, no matter how much Remus wished it did.

People could adapt to anything, and fear was no different. Fear wasn't a constant—was anything really a constant? Besides Remus' lycanthropy, which was completely incurable (a bleak thought, but accurate).

As they walked down the corridor, Remus' fear began to decrease. The first ten minutes or so were terrifying. Peter was clutching Remus' hand, and Remus was clutching right back. All four of them would jump whenever the tiniest sound emerged: the water dripping from the walls, stones scattering across the ground whenever a Marauder accidentally kicked one, and even the sounds of the Marauders' own breathing and heartbeats.

But then the pendulum began to swing back. After twenty minutes, Remus stopped jumping at the sound of water. After thirty minutes, Remus let go of Peter's hand (it was getting sweaty, and Remus didn't want to have to take off his gloves). After forty-five minutes, Remus Lupin was utterly and completely bored.

"We've been walking forever," he complained, "and there's absolutely no end in sight. No light at the end of the tunnel. Nothing. We've walked more than a mile, and it's still the same corridor. Nothing's changed!"

Sirius waggled his head in disagreement. "Not true. Peter's stopped whinging. That's changed."

"That's not nice," said Remus tiredly. "Maybe we should go back. Perhaps if we rub the runes again, they'll open up another entrance…."

James groaned. "We've walked far enough. We're not turning back now."

And so they kept walking.

And walking.

And walking.

Remus' joints were aching.

"You know," said James, "if we're trapped in here with no way out, how long will it take for us to die?"

"Fifteen days at most," said Remus without missing a beat.

"That's oddly specific. Is that the time we can last without food or water?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "No, that's the time you can last while in an enclosed area with a werewolf. It's Christmas Eve today, so I transform in fifteen days." Then he paused. "Wait! It's Christmas Eve! I totally forgot."

"Merry Christmas to us," grumbled Sirius. "We've been walking for miles, we're trapped in Salazar Slytherin's secret passageway, and Moony might kill us in fifteen days."

"Don't worry," said Remus. "I'm sure there's some sort of monster in here that'll kill you before I can." He cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting down the long, narrow, stone corridor. "YOU HEAR ME, MONSTER? YOU'VE GOT DIBS! I DON'T WANT THEM!"

"Be quiet, Moony! You're going to attract monsters," said Peter.

"Yes, that's rather the point. COME ON AND GET US! WE'VE NOTHING BETTER TO DO TODAY!"

"Ah, stop it," chuckled James. "Just because you're all right with dying doesn't mean all of us are."

"I doubt I'll die. I'm hoping the monster will sense my lycanthropy, fear me, and let me hitch a ride on its back. My feet hurt."

"And you'd sacrifice us to get a free ride?"

"Absolutely." Remus sighed. "Look, lads, I have a great sense of hearing. I'm not sure if you heard it just now when I shouted into that corridor, but it was pretty clear that it doesn't end anytime soon. I'm not sure where it leads to, but we've got at least a couple more miles, I'd wager. Maybe even several hundred. Maybe it doesn't even end."

"Everything's got to end somewhere," said Sirius.

"Yeah, and your life's going to end in fifteen days. Clock's ticking."

"How fast can werewolves run?" asked James.

"…Dunno, mate; I've never timed myself."

"Well, if we walk as far as we can for a few days, then we'll spend the last couple of days walking forward, and you'll spend the next couple of days walking back, and then you can't possibly reach us come full moon."

"Two problems with that," said Remus. "First of all, that's a pretty risky plan. I don't know how fast I can run, but I know it's fast. Second, I am not walking for fifteen days straight."

"We could run instead, if you like."

"No."

"Hop?"

"No."

"Crawl?"

"Slightly more appealing, but still no. I still say our best bet is attracting the monster and hitching a ride."

"Yeah, well, we're not gonna do that, because we value our lives," said James. "And I'd say it's pretty rich of you to be so crotchety, Moony, since you're the only one out of all of us who's safe. You're probably safe from the monster. You're safe from the werewolf. You're even safe from starvation if you manage to nab us on the full moon…."

Remus made a face. "Yuck," he said, and so did Sirius.

"My point is, you're being a prat."

"You're being a prat."

"Wrong."

"Right."

"Wrong."

"Right."

"Wrong."

"Wait." Remus held up a hand and stopped walking. "Did you hear that?"

"Nope," said Sirius.

"Well, it was definitely… something. Over our heads. It was there, and then it was gone. It has to be insanely fast…."

"Like a werewolf?"

"Shut up. LOOK! There it is again…! It's a dragon! Don't you see it?"

"It's pitch-black," said Sirius. "My eyes have adjusted a little, but I can't see that well."

"Well, it's a dragon," said Remus excitedly. "I can smell it, too. It's circling us; it must have heard us. It's not very big, but magic exists, so I'd wager it's probably strong enough to carry…"

"Only one of us?"

"No, all of us. I mean, probably. Maybe. We'll find out."

"How? If it's zipping by so quickly, how do you plan to grab it?"

Remus shrugged. "Well, I am the best duellist in our year. I was coached by Professor Questus himself, and my reflexes are quite good—not as good as James', but good nonetheless. I'm going to need to stand on someone's shoulders or something."

"Then what? We can't all hold onto you and fly away on the dragon, Remus. You're too light and weak, like a baby bird."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Remus trained his eyes on the whizzing animal above their heads. He'd assumed that it could carry them magically, but he saw now why that wouldn't work very well. First of all, Sirius was right, as much as Remus hated to admit it—Remus couldn't carry them all, especially if it was a long-distance trip. He probably couldn't even hold onto the dragon all on his own. It was really quite small; about the size of Remus' arm.

But there had to be a solution. "Hey, dragon," said Remus. "How do we get out?"

The dragon did not respond. In fact, Remus' attempts only earned him a few amused looks from his friends, which he didn't appreciate one bit. "Erm… hiss hiss?" he tried, but nothing happened—well, nothing happened except for Sirius' maniacal laughter. That, unfortunately, did happen.

"Is the dragon giving you some sort of clue?" asked James. "Is it pointing in a certain direction? Is it flapping its wings a certain way?"

"I don't think so," said Remus.

He watched the dragon circle above them for a while, thinking. Then, without warning, the dragon swooped at James' head, and James—without even seeing it—grabbed it instinctively.

"AHHH!" said James, completely taken aback by the wildly-flapping dragon that was now trapped within his hands.

"AHHH!" said Sirius, who had been grazed on the cheek by the dragon's tail.

"AHHH!" said Peter, who likely had no idea what was going on.

And then, all of a sudden, the dragon disappeared.

"AHHH!" said James again. "Where did it go? Where did it go?!"

And then the ground opened up beneath their feet and all four Marauders were in free fall.

Remus had just enough time to wonder where the ground had gone before he fell onto a rough surface with a resounding THUMP. He sat up and frantically looked for his friends: James was there, though he seemed to have bruised his foot and was rubbing at it violently; Peter was there and seemed fine; but Sirius…

"Where's Sirius?" he asked. James stopped rubbing his foot immediately and began panicking instead. "SIRIUS?" he screamed. There was no response.

While James yelled himself hoarse, Remus looked around. They seemed to have fallen into some sort of cart, and Remus could see that it was perched on a track that seemed to stretch out as far as the eye could see. But now, at least, they had a means of transportation.

Unfortunately, they had lost Sirius.

"SIRIUS!" yelled James again. Remus looked all around, but there was no sight of the fourth Marauder. "Don't you smell him or something?" asked James, grasping Remus around the upper arms (he'd meant to get Remus' shoulders, but he couldn't quite see) and shaking them.

"No," said Remus. "Not at all." Remus felt absolutely awful. What if Sirius had gotten hurt? What if Sirius had died? It would have been all Remus' fault for leading them down here… especially when Sirius hadn't wanted to go in the first place… oh, Remus would never forgive himself.

Remus peered over the edge of the cart, and he saw nothing but… "Fiddlesticks," he said.

"What?" said James. "What is it? What?!"

"Devil's Snare," said Remus. He began to panic even further. There were gobs and gobs of Devil's Snare beneath the cart, wrapping up the walls, swaying slightly from side to side as if waiting for James or Remus to fall. Devil's Snare, in fact, had killed Professor Questus' sister. "Sirius' scent isn't coming from the Devil's Snare, though, so maybe he's fine."

"Then where is he?" asked James.

Remus glanced at Peter, who was sitting in the corner, head down on his knees and shaking. That was understandable. Remus directed his attention towards the edge of the cart once again. "I… don't know, James. I can't tell."

"What are the point of werewolf senses if you can't even use them to useful things?" grumbled James.

"Who said there was a point to having heightened senses, James? I hate them. They're torture. I'm so sorry that you can't use the bane of my existence as a tool."

"Oh, come off it. I've a right to be annoyed. My best mate is missing! Do you even care? If you cared, you'd be shouting right along with me!"

"I don't…" Remus felt tears rise to his eyes. "That's not what I… that's not how I deal with things. I feel awful, too."

"No, you feel guilty because you're afraid it's your fault, just like you always do. You don't actually care about Sirius."

"I do!"

"Stop fighting," said Peter, and Remus immediately fell silent.

"Shut up," James said, a fire in his eyes. "You're not a part of this, Wormtail."

"You're both on the same side," said Peter.

There was a bit of silence as James processed that, and then Remus nodded his head. "I agree," he said. "Sorry, Prongs. I'm just as frustrated as you are that I can't be of any help. But I can still see in the dark better than you can. Maybe…" Remus peered over the edge of the cart again. "I'm looking, Prongs, I promise. We'll find him."

Time passed. Remus wandered around the edge of the cart, looking everywhere he could see. The cart was perched on some rails that were placed on the stone ground, so they weren't very high above the ground to begin with. There was only Devil's Snare on one side of the cart, which was comforting. Another side seemed to have a small river, but Remus could see all the way to the bottom (even in the dark) and caught a few minnows swimming around… it wasn't nearly deep enough to contain Sirius.

He looked up. There was a large slab missing in the stone above them—Remus figured that it must have disappeared when they'd caught the dragon. He wondered what had happened to the dragon. Had it just… disappeared? That was odd.

Had Sirius even fallen with them? They'd only been falling for a split second, so Remus didn't quite remember… but he had to have been. He'd been standing right next to James when the floor had disappeared, which meant that he'd have been standing directly on the slab of stone that had disappeared.

Whatever had happened, Remus was certain that it must have been magical. Since there was no Sirius-scent to be found, it had to have been.

And then, next to the tracks, Remus saw something.

He'd missed it before—it was brown, so it blended in with the ground. Even though Remus had good night vision, it was still very dark. "Hey, Prongs?" he said. "I'm going to investigate something outside the cart. Could you promise to stay here and not follow me, no matter what happens?"

"Why?"

"Because there's a large crop of Devil's Snare right next to where I'm going. If you're not careful, you'll get trapped. You and Peter should stay on the cart."

"Fine," said James. "I promise… for the next hour or so. If you disappear just like Sirius, I'm going to look for you."

"Fair," said Remus. "I'll be back by then."

With this promise in mind, he swung one leg over the side of the cart and managed to hop over the edge. Then he began to make his way to the mysterious item, being very careful to avoid the Devil's Snare. And then, lo and behold, there was… a large portrait, about the size of the dormitory window. It was blank, and it blended in with the stone ground nearly perfectly, frame and all.

Remus crouched next to it and touched it with a single finger. To his massive surprise, his finger went right through the monochrome paint as if it were not even there. Remus stuck his whole hand into the painting and wriggled it around. he felt nothing.

He stood up. "I'm going inside this portrait," he yelled. "I'll be right back, probably."

"You'd better be," came Peter's wavering voice.

Then Remus took a deep breath and sat on the side of the frame as if it were a swimming pool, dipped his feet into the canvas, and then slid into it entirely.

AN: Yesterday, 2 May, was the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts (and thus Remus' Lupin's day of death). RIP Remus :(