Chapter Fifteen: Throwing Down the Gauntlet

Lily crept to her bedroom door, pressed her ear to the wood - made out the sounds of her family sleeping and then, on tiptoes, made her way to her bedroom window. She slid it open all the way, flung one leg over the windowsill and then clambered out, shinning down the drain pipe until her feet hit solid ground.

The air was still, and it was much warmer in the Midlands than it was at the very top of Scotland - and she walked slowly towards Spinners End, enjoying her stroll.

Although her family were all fast asleep, and the hour was late, the lights were still on at Sev's house. And, even from out on the street, she could hear Mr. Snape yelling. 'Good for nothing little snot rag,' she heard him shout. 'Yeah - look at you - gripping that thing like a big man. Can't use it on me though, can you? And that's all you've got - that little stick of wood. You'll never be a proper man. You'll always be a worthless, little fairy in his dress with his stick of wood… what was that - what did you say?'

There was a moment of quiet - as Sev must have repeated whatever it was he had said.

Mr. Snape gave a loud and mirthless laugh. 'Their robes ,' he mimicked in a high pitched voice, 'it's a wand… You're a freak - you hear me? God knows what I did to get a son as unnatural and worthless as you! Get out of here - ' There came the sound of something being hurled against the wall and smashing. And then the front door slammed and Severus appeared on the doorstep, wiping his eyes.

'Alright, Sev?' Lily said awkwardly.

Immediately he sniffed, dashed away the last of tears and pretended nothing was wrong. 'Yeah - of course. I'm glad you're here.'

She smiled and held out her hand to him, 'let's go to the park.'

…

They sat on the monkey bars at the top of the climbing frame, their legs dangling through. 'I can't wait until it's time to go home,' Severus said, rather viciously.

'This is home.'

'No. It's not. Neither of us belong in this muggle hell hole and we never will. We're better than this place.'

'That's not kind.'

'The truth doesn't have to be kind.'

'We're not better than anyone, Sev.'

'Yes we are. We're special. More powerful. They're all ordinary. Worthless. Stupid.'

'My family aren't worthless and stupid, Severus… Not all muggles are like your dad.'

He flushed so deeply it was visible even in the pale moonlight. 'Anyway, we probably shouldn't be out tonight,' he said - changing the subject.

'Why not?'

He nodded up at the sky. 'Full moon - werewolves could be about. We don't want to get bit.'

Lly snorted. 'Werewolves aren't real!' And then she caught sight of his face '... Wait? What? Werewolves? You're serious?'

'Deadly. There's laws about the way they're supposed to contain themselves, of course but … werewolves don't care about laws much. They're dangerous animals, see? Think human rules don't apply.'

She looked around herself and shivered. 'Maybe we should get back inside?'

But he only laughed. 'I doubt there are any werewolves in Cokeworth. They're not the monsters that live around here ... I wonder what Lupin is doing tonight.'

'Er - what? '

'He disappears once a month,' he said - looking up at the moon.

'Oh, get lost!' she scoffed. 'I can accept werewolves are real, everything else seems to be. But that Lupin is one? No way.'

'So where does he go?'

'Last month he went home to visit his sick mother. I think that's all there is to it. You're seeing something that isn't there - and prying where you're not wanted. It isn't our business where Lupin goes - especially not if his mum is poorly.'

Severus looked unconvinced. 'If you say so … Still - I'd like to know what he's doing tonight.'

…

The truth was, Remus was doing what he did the night of every full moon he was at home. His dad had taken him down into the cellar, just before sunset, and - blushing - Remus had stripped all his clothes off and handed them over. Now he was getting older, his father always averted his eyes to give him some privacy … but there wasn't much privacy to be had in the small space, and no matter how kindly he was treated - there was little dignity in transforming into a werewolf … and being seen like this always hurt, even if it was only his dad who saw him.

And then - perhaps even worse than having his clothes taken away - his father conjured a manacle and shackled it around Remus's ankle and fixed it to the wall, tugging on it to make sure it would hold. And then he had said goodnight, still not looking at his son, and left him all alone down there - while he went upstairs to put the protections on the door.

Remus had sat on the floor, and curled his legs tightly up against his body to try and protect his modesty, even though he was alone. He had wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and stared around the cellar, trying to pretend that he didn't mind all this. That it wasn't humiliating to have to be treated this way - that he wasn't ashamed.

He had tried to think of other things - but there was nothing of any comfort that sprung to mind. His mum looked awful - and that was really the only other thing he had room for in his head beyond the dread of his upcoming transformation.

She was even thinner than she had been at Christmas. Her cough was constant; she had to take naps during the day and rest halfway up the stairs whenever she climbed them … And he knew it was him making her sick … Because he was this - the monster in the basement. And seeing her so thin and worn, with the dark circles under her eyes, he couldn't help but feel he was being punished - for using her as his excuse. He had told people she was so ill he needed to miss school … and now she was. He had made this happen. He was killing her - with his lies and his condition, he was killing his mother. She was wasting away, and his heart felt like ice whenever the thought strayed across his mind that soon he would not have her anymore.

Between the fear for his mum and the fear of his transformation … he preferred to think of the latter. It was far less painful, even if it was the cause of his other worry. He tugged on his shackle to make sure it was holding him tight - and tried not to hate himself - and tried not cry. He was too old to cry now. And crying fixed nothing anyway.

He had shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest again and stared about himself forlornly - wondering what his friends were up to while he sat down here, chained naked in a basement and waiting to transform into a monster.

And then the moon had risen - and by the time Lily had left her house in far away Cokeworth - Remus was long gone.

…

Both James and Sirius - miles apart - were lying on their own beds and staring up at the moon … wondering. They had exchanged a flurry of owls over the last couple of days - trying to work out a strategy for how they would bring up the whole werewolf issue next month, when they would have their evidence.

It made Sirius feel sick just thinking about having to broach the subject ...though that might be the hunger. His family ate early on nights when his parents were off to parties - which was most nights - and now it was late, and that little toerag, Kreacher, was in the kitchen and Sirius did not fancy fighting his way past him to get a snack.

He hadn't been walloped with a broom this holiday - he hadn't even been yelled at much. He had barely been spoken to at all. Everyone just maintained a furious silence around him - and acted like he wasn't there (which was alright with him - he preferred his family when they weren't talking). Everyone except Kreacher, that was - who constantly mumbled under his breath about what a disappointment Sirius was. And Sirius knew the house elf was only repeating whatever his mother said about him while he wasn't there.

Right now - lying hungry on the bed and unable to face leaving his room - the thing he missed about school, more than his friends, was the food. But even miserable as he was - he still found time to worry about Remus tonight, and hope he was OK.

Meanwhile, James was stuffed to bursting point and still eating his birthday chocolate as he lay in his own room. But as content - and slightly sick with overeating - as he felt, he too still found time to hope that tonight would not prove too difficult for his less fortunate, werewolf friend.

…

Remus slept for most of the next day - and when he woke up, his mum was not beside him - like she normally was. He got to his feet and staggered down the hallway - and found her resting in her own bed. 'Mum?'

She turned her head on the pillow and gave him a wan smile. She reached her hand out to him. 'I'm sorry, baby, I wanted to be there when you woke up. How are you feeling?'

He went to her and took her hand. 'Never mind me, what about you?'

She coughed - and wheezed - and her whole chest rattled. 'I'm fine, Remus. You mustn't fuss.' She lifted the covers and he climbed in beside her - even though he was twelve now - and far too old for this sort of thing - and snuggled up beside her.

'You got some letters,' she told him sleepily. 'Your dad brought them up - they should be on the nightstand.'

He reached out for them, and then settled back down. There was one from James and one from Sirius.

'They seem nice, your friends,' Hope said. 'They seem to care about you … that's good. It makes me glad. Makes me worry less.'

'I don't want you to worry about me, mum.'

But she only smiled, and gave him a kiss, 'that's my job.' She fell asleep - her chest rose and fell only shallowly and her breathing was weak and uneven. Remus stayed beside her, holding her hand in one of his and using the other to read his letters.

James asked if he was feeling OK and then told him about all the birthday presents he had received ("and I got a knife that can open any lock, like I asked for, so we can break into that locked room next term!")

Sirius asked if he was feeling OK and then told him he was, himself, bored and lonely and struggling with the Daily Prophet crossword without Remus. ("I'm stuck on 5 down. American Ministry of Magic. I'd ask my dad, but my entire family seem to have sent me to coventry. Even Reg, the little git. Send help!")

Remus chuckled to himself. 'Dad!' he called in a stage whisper- so as not to wake his mum, 'dad - can you bring the paper up? I need the crossword.'

Lyall arrived with the paper in his hand, smiled at Remus - checked on Hope, and then disappeared again. Remus turned to the page with the crossword on it and began to peruse all the clues, scratching the answers in with his quill.

His eyes strayed to the next page … and he frowned when he read the heading on the article there:

Two More Mysterious Disappearances. When Will the Ministry Act?

He read on:

Following on from the disappearance of Tabitha Torkington last May, "Greasy" Greg Greaver in the August and Gobstones enthusiast, Ciaran Linehan, sometime in November, the Prophet is alarmed to report that yet two more members of the magical community have vanished without a trace.

Douglas McMurray of Underwood Glen was last seen leaving his Fifeshire home in late February. 'We'd run out of crumpets,' his wife, Ailsa, 37, reports. 'I knew I should bake them from scratch - but I sent him out to buy more, instead and ...he was never seen again.'

Asked if he was facing trouble at home or in work, or if it was possible he had simply done a moonlit flit and left his wife, Mrs. McMurray burst out sobbing. She remains convinced that foul play is the cause of her husband's disappearance.

That too is the belief of Edith Larkson, 82, who lived in Gloucestershire with her 57 year old son Barnaby until a week last Tuesday. Barnaby Larkson, a catering wizard who works for Caradoc Carew's Classic Catering Company, was supposed to be at work on the night of the 21st - catering a wedding. However he never showed and he never came home.

'He's such a good boy,' Mrs. Larkson told reporters. 'He would never leave me - I need help with my gouty knees you see. He wouldn't abandon me to them.'

But this now makes five missing witches and wizards in under a year - an unprecedented amount. And it seems unlikely, to this reporter at least (Mable Grable - always first on the spot for stories that are hot to trot), that there is not something sinister afoot.

But perhaps what is most sinister, is the Ministry of Magic's refusal to admit whether or not they believe the cases are linked and whether the Aurors' office is investigating them as one case - or even investigating at all.

There seems to be rather a lot of brushing these wizards under the carpet; an inability to face up to what is going on and to sort it properly from our officials and those we trust to keep us safe.

How many more mysterious disappearances, how many more unexplained deaths of loved ones, will it take before the Ministry gets off it's collective backside and decides to ask questions? We demand better. We demand answers!

When his dad brought him up a cup of tea, Remus asked him if he had seen the article on the missing people. Lyall just tutted and shook his head. 'Don't think about it, Remus - it's just that awful Mable Grable stirring up trouble. Trouble sells. You know what she's like. These are peaceful times - there's nothing to worry about.'

And so Remus put it out of his head, and went back to worrying about his mum instead.

...

They returned to school in mid April - and things got off to a bad start almost immediately, when the very first morning - as they exited the Great Hall after breakfast - they discovered Mulciber and Avery from Slytherin had cornered Petra Linehan. They had their wands out, and were right up in her face - and she looked like she was about to cry.

'We know what happened to your uncle,' Mulciber sneered at her.

'Yeah - want us to tell you what happened to Uncle Ciaran? Wanna know what they did to his Gobstones?'

'Oi!' James yelled, whipping out his wand and brandishing it at the pair of them. 'Get off her.' His wand made a noise like the boom of a canon going off and engulfed the two boys in smoke. He followed it up immediately with some bright purple sparks.

Sirius hadn't pulled his wand out - he just swung his fist and thumped Mulciber a hard right cross. Remus put his arm around Petra and led her away - she burst into tears as soon as she was away from her tormentors - and he stood there, patting her awkwardly, while in the background James tried to hex the Slytherins and Sirius kept punching them - and Peter hovered nervously not knowing quite what to do and squeaking with fright every time Sirius hit someone.

'Get out of it,' Sirius roared - aiming his boot at Avery's backside - as the two Slytherin boys hurried off.

'Creepy gits,' James muttered under his breath, dusting his hands off - they walked over to where Remus and Petra were standing. 'Are you OK?'

But Petra just continued to cry.

'We should tell McGonagall,' Remus said. But Petra shook her head and mumbled something about 'not making a fuss' … and James and Sirius agreed they had handled the situation so there was no need to snitch.

'But-'

'We sorted it; McGonagall doesn't have to know. If Petra doesn't want to…'

Remus bit his lip, 'well - if Petra's sure she's OK...' but Petra gave a great wail and ran off up the marble staircase, in the opposite direction to the greenhouses and Herbology, where she was supposed to be headed.

'Well, we'll have to tell Sprout something,' Remus said - watching her go. 'We can't let her get in trouble for missing class.'

But when they were in Greenhouse number one, repotting their Bouncing Bulbs, Remus thought of something else. 'Do you think they were telling the truth?' he hissed under his breath so Sprout wouldn't hear him. 'About knowing what happened to Petra's uncle?'

'How could they?' James asked.

Remus shrugged. 'People are disappearing - according to the Daily Prophet five people in under a year. Something is happening to them. Someone must be doing something to them.'

Sirius snorted, 'and you reckon that someone is Avery and Mulciber?'

'Not them - no - they're twelve. But James is right. They're creepy gits. I bet they come from creepy git families…'

'I come from a creepy git family; I don't know what happened to Uncle Ciaran.'

'Your family don't talk to you. You've got no idea what they're up to while you're at school. They wouldn't tell you, if they did know.'

Sirius opened his mouth - but was cut off before he could make his retort by James shaking his head. 'No way - if Mulciber and Avery's dads were going round killing people - would they tell stupid little gits like the two of them. And they wouldn't be so stupid as to mouth off about it. They could get their dads into trouble if people took them seriously. No - they were just being foul - because they are foul.'

…

Nevertheless, for all he didn't believe the Slytherin boys knew anything, James still decided he was not going to let this new slight against a Gryffindor lie. That night he closed the dormitory door and addressed the boys with a solemn and serious face.

'Now it's true that that tripping jinx turning out to be a lacerating hex was a bit of bad luck,' he said to them. 'And Merlin knows the last thing any of us wants is Sirius being chucked out of school - even if he is a bit of an idiot sometimes…'

'Hey!' Sirius threw his pillow at him.

'Nevertheless,' James continued, ignoring the pillow as it bounced harmlessly off his head, 'I believe the time has come for us to take up arms against the Slytherins again, men. They're getting far too bolshy. Starting tomorrow - we put the Slytherins back in their place.'

…

In the next Potions lesson, James snuck unseen between the cauldrons and set fire to the edge of Severus's robes. It took a few moments for the boy to realise he was alight and - when he did - he cried out, Lily screamed, and Snape's cauldron full of Pustulence Potion - a mixture which caused hideous boils to spring out on the skin - was tipped over and began to seep into everyone's shoes … And by the time the fire had been put out and the floor mopped up, a large hole had been burned away in Snape's robes, revealing his underpants to the class.

'Why did you even go for Snape?' Remus asked, 'he wasn't bullying Petra.'

James shrugged. 'The bloke just bothers me.'

…

But Severus, still burning with humiliation, got his own back later that day - when he slipped a modicum of Lily's perfectly brewed Pustulence Potion right into James' evening pumpkin juice. Within moments James' entire face had broken out into crusty, purple pimples and oozing, violently red boils.

'Errr - you're disgusting, mate!' Sirius said, peering at him. 'Come on - let's get you to the Hospital Wing - your face is putting me off my shepherd's pie.'

…

James got his own back in their weekly flying lesson by hitting bludgers as hard as he could into the faces of Mulciber, Avery and Snape.

While Madam Hooch was not looking, Sirius threw the quaffle as hard as he could, and managed to knock Severus off his broom. Severus dangled one handed from his broomstick, his legs flailing in thin air - screaming his head off - while Lily tried to help him back to safety.

Sirius and James laughed so hard they almost fell off their brooms themselves.

In retaliation to the bludgers, Mulciber and Avery dive bombed Peter - who shrieked and turned his broomstick towards the ground, zooming to safety. Madam Hooch turned around just in time to see Mulciber drop the quaffle on Peter's head from a great height - and the Slytherin boys were given detention.

…

They were fuming after that - that they had been caught while the Gryffindors got away scot free - and, in the next Potions lesson, there was a flurry of note passing between the two houses.

Let's see you take us on when there's not a teacher around

Mulciber wrote.

The four Gryffindors read it, their heads bent close over the parchment - their De-aging Potion left completely ignored. 'Don't rise to it,' Remus said.

'They'll think we're scared!'

'Oh, James - who cares what Slytherins think?'

But then another note was passed back to them - it bore only one word:

Chicken?

'That's it,' James said, 'we're doing this.' He took out his quill.

Name your time and place

He wrote.

Outside the castle - tomorrow night

Came back Mulciber's reply. James showed it to Sirius who nodded and James wrote back:

Whomping Willow Roulette - we're playing for real. Losers get expelled.

'No!' Remus hissed, when he saw what was written. 'No - James you can't. Please. You heard what McGonagall said.'

'Exactly. Anyone caught gets expelled. Well - me and Sirius and Pete have all won ourselves a round. We can get the stinking Slytherins out of school by the weekend.'

'Don't you drag Peter into this!'

But the note was sent - James was deaf to Remus's pleas - and Mulciber sent back his answer.

Tomorrow night then - midnight. See you at the Whomping Willow.

…

Remus spent the whole of that day and most of the next trying to talk James and Sirius out of it. He at least thought he had Peter convinced - and it was only the two of them he needed to work on … But they were so bullheaded there was no talking to them.

'What if it's a trap?' he asked them. 'What if they have no intention of turning up - and Filch is there waiting for you when you get there? You'll be kicked straight out, and they'll have won.'

'We'll take the cloak,' James said, waving an airy hand. 'We won't be visible until we know they're there - and if it's Filch or Slughorn or anyone else we'll creep back inside, no one will be any the wiser.'

'But what if you get hurt? What if you wind up in the Hospital Wing? You'll be expelled this time for sure.'

'We won't be expelled because we won't get hurt. The Slytherins will. And then Slughorn can chuck 'em out.'

'Slughorn is not going to expel Slytherins! I cannot say the same for McGonagall and us. And just think of the position you're putting me and Peter in. Big Macca said that anyone who knew and said nothing would be complicit - that they would get chucked out too. You'll get me and Peter expelled when we haven't even done anything!'

Peter gave a terrified squeak.

'Oh don't be soft, Pete!' James snapped. 'No one is getting expelled.'

'Apart from the Slytherins,' Sirius said.

'Apart from the Slytherins,' James agreed.

...

Remus was so angry with the pair of them that he stormed away and didn't speak to them for the next couple of hours. Something happened that would push the whole thing out of his head, though - when he received a message telling him Professor McGonagall wanted to speak to him in her office right away.

With his heart pounding furiously in his chest, thinking that somehow she must already know - and was just reeling him in to play with him, like a cat plays with a mouse, before expelling him and snapping his wand in two - he made his way to her office and knocked on the door.

But when he went inside, her lips were not thin, her nostrils were not flared ...In fact her eyes were a little watery and when she said, 'take a seat, Mr. Lupin,' her voice made it sound like she had a bad head cold. When she looked at him, her expression was sympathetic … And somehow that filled him with even more dread than the thought of her barking at him until she booted him out of the castle.

'What is it?' he asked '...Professor?'

'I've had a letter from your father, Lupin,' she said to him - and her voice was still too kind and gentle. He did not like this at all. 'It seems your mother has taken a turn for the worse.'

'My mum -'

'He says… he says it's not time for you to return home yet. They wish you to miss as little school as possible. But I'm afraid, Lupin - I'm very sorry to say - that your father has written to tell me you must prepare yourself for the worst.'

'What … when … how long?' His ears were ringing. His chest felt hollow.

'He will stay in touch - keep me informed. But he thinks it will be a matter of days ...weeks at most. They will of course make sure you get home in time to say Goodbye.'

That final word rung inside his head - and inside his heart - reverberating around and around and leaving him breathless, frozen in panicked disbelief. 'I should go home now.'

'There's nothing you can do, Lupin. Your mother does not want you missing out on your education. But I promise I will call for you and send you straight home by floo powder the moment your father sends for you. No matter what time of day or night - no matter what you are doing. I will make sure you get home to say Goodbye, I swear to that.'

'I - I…' he didn't know what to say. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears and he tried to blink them back. 'I should get back to the common room … I have homework … thanks - thanks for telling me, Professor.'

'Lupin, if there is anything you need - if there is anything I can do.'

'No - no thanks, Professor,' he got out of his chair, stumbling against it as he got back to his feet. He was suddenly all clumsy - and not quite sure where he was or what was going on … 'I should ... go…'

And he hurried to the door, feeling her sympathetic eyes on him all the way, and scurried through, slamming it shut behind him. He leaned against the wall - closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

'What's going on?'

His eyes snapped open. Sirius had just come round the corner. 'Sirius…'

'How come you were just in Big Macca's office?'

He opened his mouth to tell him… and then found he couldn't. If he told Sirius his mum was dying … then it would be real. If other people knew … it would be real. It would really be happening. But if he could just keep it to himself, pretend it wasn't happening - maybe he could wish his mum well again - if he just didn't admit the truth, maybe the sheer force of his will could stop her from leaving him.

'No reason,' he said. 'She just wanted to speak to me about … her Transfiguration essay.'

'Yeah?' He looked suspicious.

But Remus nodded and forced a smile, 'come on, we'll be late for tea.'

…

Professor McGonagall wiped the unshed tears from her eyes and sniffed loudly. Lupin was not the first child in her care to have a parent die when they were so young… But it was never easy. It hurt her every time she had to deliver the news. And as hard as this interview had been, in a matter of weeks - if not days - she would have him in again, delivering the final blow.

Sniffing again, she gave herself a shake and picked up her quill - pulling the pile of essays over to herself to start marking them. She had only been at work a minute when there came a hesitant tap on the door.

'Come in,' she called, frowning at the interruption. The door creaked open. 'Ah - Mr. Pettigrew, what can I do for you?'

...

Remus was quiet for the rest of the night. He ignored his friends - ignored their whispering to each other, didn't even notice the way they were looking at him, watching him, talking about him … He was just lost in a numb fog of disbelieving misery.

His father had told him at Christmas that they could hope for a miracle … there would have to be a miracle. There would have to be.

He stared at the Potions textbook, it trembled in his hands and - no matter how long he looked at the words - he couldn't take any of them in. All he could see was the image of his mother: her face chalky white, the dark circles under her eyes - and he could hear the way her chest rattled whenever she breathed. That must hurt. She must be in pain - all the time. And now she was dying - had only days left … and he was stuck in this stupid castle, being told to concentrate on his education - as if that was worth anything compared to being with his mum…

He should never have come to Hogwarts. He should never have left her.

In the end, he went up to the dormitory - pulled the curtains closed tightly around his bed and just stared up at the canopy. He had completely forgotten what his friends were planning. And, though he wasn't aware it had happened, by the time they came up to bed he had drifted into a miserable and restless sleep.

…

At a quarter to midnight, James got quietly out of bed and went to shake Sirius awake. 'It's time,' he hissed. 'I've got the cloak.' They put on their slippers and - before they disappeared beneath the invisibility cloak, Sirius gave Peter a rough shove.

'Whassat?' Peter mumbled blearily.

'Shh - Pete - it's us. We're off. Make sure Remus doesn't sneak out and tell McGonagall we've gone.'

'He isn't going to tell McGonagall,' James chided. But Sirius only snorted … He knew what he'd seen.

'Good luck,' Peter said to them. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 'Try not to get expelled.'

James only snorted. 'No fear!' and then he threw the cloak over them both and they vanished from view. A few seconds later, the door opened as if by itself - and then closed again - and, left alone, Peter snuggled back down and went back to sleep.

…

The pair of them crept through the castle. They knew their way through it well enough now - shortcuts and all - that they managed to reach the marble staircase in record time and without incident. As they made their way down, the door to the dungeons creaked open - and Mulciber, Avery and Snape came stalking out - headed for the door.

'So it's not a trap,' James whispered. 'Let's hide the cloak before we get out there, we don't want them knowing about it.'

Once the Slytherin boys were sufficiently far enough away from the castle, James whipped off the cloak, they stashed it in a cupboard - and then they ran through the front door, down the lawn and to the edge of the forest, where the Whomping Willow stood.

The three Slytherins were waiting for them. 'Thought you might have chickened out,' Mulciber said by way of greeting.

'You wish.'

'Where's the fat one and the sickly weirdo?'

'I don't know who you mean.'

Mulciber snorted in impatience. 'Yeah - you do. Where are the other two?'

'They decided not to come.'

'Too chicken?'

'You're missing two Slytherins as well - we're equal.'

Avery gave him a withering look. 'We will never be equal, Potter.'

Sirius's bark of a laugh cut through the air. 'You're right. We're better. So … we all know the rules? Ten paces. Winner is the first to touch the tree - and they can tell the loser's head of house they were out here mucking around. By the end of tonight - some of us are going to be expelled.'

'This school ain't big enough for the both of us,' James nodded.

They all took up their positions. James was glowing with confidence. Sirius was grimly determined once again - but no less so than Snape, whose mouth was set in a very firm line beneath his hooked nose.

'On your marks,' James said.

'Get set,' Mulciber said.

'Aand first step!' they all cried together - and then took their first step. Of course nothing happened, they were still ten paces away. But another step and then another and they were close enough that the Willow began to sense their presence.

It creaked and groaned, and rocked on its roots - and giant branches came swinging through the air, pummelling at the group of boys. Sirius jumped a branch - nice and nimble - and it scythed round to take out Avery. Avery also jumped - but he misjudged. His feet got caught and he smacked face down into the dirt - and was then walloped on the head by yet another bough … he was out.

Sirius barked with laughter - and then had to dodge quickly, dropping to the floor and rolling back up to his feet … closer to the tree than ever.

James had made good progress at first - but since then he had had to scarper several paces back to avoid a sudden vicious uppercut and was now having to retake ground he had already covered.

Mulciber dodged one way to avoid one branch that was lunging right at him … only to fling himself directly into the path of another. It smacked into his chest and threw him through the air, where he landed heavily on the ground … he was out.

Sirius laughed again - and did not see the same branch coming right at him. He too sailed through the air and tumbled to the ground.

And now it was only between James and Snape. All the excitement had left James' face now - and he was breathing hard with exertion and battling his way forwards … But he was no more determined than Snape, who looked very much like a boy who was within grasping distance of his heart's desire … and was terrified it was about to be snatched away from him.

Sirius lay on the ground, getting his breath back - and watched as the two boys crept closer and closer, freezing when the tree seemed to search for them, ducking and rolling or jumping when a branch came for them - and then making a mad dash forward whenever they got a clear shot.

It was hard to say who was winning - some moments it looked like James was ahead, others it would look like Snivellus was assured of victory. The tree seemed to be going for them both at an equal rate, neither was getting an easy ride.

He heard a distant shout coming from the direction of the castle .. but he was so focused on the battle between James and Snape that he did not turn to look. He didn't turn to look when the voice came again - unmistakably angry … or when he heard footsteps.

The two boys were now barely more than an arm's reach from touching the trunk - and it was hard to say who was going to get there. The tree was lashing out, rocking and swaying wildly as it desperately tried to land its vicious blows on the two remaining interlopers … but both were so close now that they were not going to let anything stop them.

And then a branch swung at James - and he jumped it - and it swung round to Snape. He jumped too - but the branch swung upwards - and smacked him full in the face with all the force a tree the size of the Whomping Willow could muster.

Sirius watched as the boy flew through the air in a wide and high arc, and then landed head first on the ground - unconscious - and right beside a pair of boots. Women's boots.

Sirius stared at the shoes - and then looked upward, his eyes following the form of the witch standing there … until they locked onto the white and furious face of Professor McGongall.

She glanced down at the unconscious boy and conjured a stretcher for him. Then she looked at the other four. She was breathing very heavily. 'Up to the castle. Now.'