CHAPTER 16: RETURN OF THE HOGSMEAD WEREWOLF
Following his sudden muscle collapse James had to spend a week in a wheelchair. Pomfrey had identified the "stone" as an acorn from the iron oak. Inside the mouth it provided enormous strength but also immense weakness once it was taken out. When she asked where he had gotten it, he replied honestly that he had just found it.
"You must have found it down there," said Sirius. "But thought nothing of it, decided to keep it as a plaything, and then forgot about it."
"Or maybe," said James, who missed the feel of that little pebble. "I've had it the whole time." He pointed to his heart. "In here."
Sirius pointed at James's head.
"More like in there."
There was nobody they could talk to about what had happened on Hogmanay night. Especially not McGonagall. The Hogsmead werewolf was after all an important donor who owned the local media. In fact he was very likely the most important donor. He had of course bought all the local aurors and hunters as well. And this was why he had been allowed to abduct milkmaids for 500 years. Dumbledore was in on this, and so was McGongall.
As far as Pomfrey knew James had been found concussed by the quidditch shed again.
"It is pretty obvious how it got in my pocket though isn't it?" he said as they were leaving physiotherapy. "The stone thing comes from the iron oak down in that garden, the tree that was a gift from some mystic or whatever. Obviously it was given to lord Godric and has some kind of special connection to real proper Gryffindors like me. In one of those special magic moments it could sense that I needed it and just magicked into my pocket because I'm just that worthy."
It made perfect sense.
Even though he clearly wanted to, Sirius could not dispute such a flawless theory.
"So a magic stone magicked into your pocket? Couldn't it sense your active lifestyle?"
"Of course it could but it still wanted to give me a helping hand because of my pureness of heart. Don't be jel because it favoured me. Even though I saved our asses I have to admit that maybe playing Stairway To Heaven isn't such a useless activity. I've never seen anybody with such quick, nimble fingers handle locks so fast."
Sirius eyed him very suspiciously.
"I think you had it the whole time but didn't tell me!"
"Believe me I wish I had made you eat it. I do not need this right now, being confined to this wheelchair when I need to get a team together and get them all in form, especially me. Physiotherapy is very tough for something only old people do. But it is vital I don't shirk it no matter how strenuous it is. Hoo but I am glad I have already done that today. Ok last one to the pinball machines is a werewolf burger!"
He then raced out of the hospital wing in the wheelchair, hopped on rails, went down them, did leaps and somersaults and all manner of super impressive wheelchair stunts that impressed everyone who saw him. Some people muttered show off but they were just jealous losers.
Then spring term kicked off. It was nice to have an audience again
"Well?" said Roy. "Did you take any pictures?"
A group of students was waiting for Flitters.
"I tried," Sirius replied. "But I think you'll find it is surprisingly hard to photograph werewolves when they eat your equipment."
He showed off his battered camera.
The audience gasped. Roy dropped his mint tablet.
"What? Werewolf?"
"I'm afraid so."
"You're joking."
"Me, joke about something that serious? How dare you! How dare you!"
"Why do you say 'How dare you?' in such a silly way?"
"I was there! I came face to face with the beast!"
Roy and the others were overcome with fear and all its synonyms. Janine Spoon was pale as a ghost.
"And you got away unscathed?"
"Only just. It cut off some of my hair look!"
He showed everyone in the circle around him and James, exactly where a claw had neatly sliced off a lock of hair, miming it going rratsch. Everyone stepped back, as if they weren't sure if it was equal to being bitten but wanted to be on the safe side.
Sirius seemed to delight in it a lot.
"It was five metres tall!" he went on, throwing up his arms. "It had a thousand teeth! The eyes were laser beams!"
His audience gasped at everything he said. Somebody faint of heart began to cry for their mummy. Actually that turned out to be Peter. He was in the wrong crowd, this was cool kids only.
"Each tooth was a smaller werewolf!"
"Wow really?" said Donna.
"Also it breathed fire!" James joined in.
Collective gasp.
"It had seven heads!" said Sirius.
Collective gasp.
"On both ends!" said James.
Collective gasp.
"I stabbed it on the nose!" said Sirius.
That was when the balloon went pop.
No gasping.
Suddenly just crickets.
Going: cree cree cree cree.
Sirius looked confused, as if he had tried to ring a bell that would produce no sound. Everyone around him had their eyes sarcastically half-closed. They exchanged sarcastic side glances of disbelief. Their eyes remained sarcastically half-closed.
Like in a lot of animations.
A few brows even went fish hook. The eyes remained sarcastically half-closed.
"Oh did you now?" said Roy, sarcastically half-closed eyesdly.
"I did, I did!" Sirius insisted, probably wondering, if it would help if he whacked them all. "I stabbed it!"
Roy chortled.
"Of course you did. And after that I bet you trimmed its Grinch feet and sprayed it in blueberry cologne!"
The others laughed.
"No. What? Why would I do that?"
The circle started to loosen up, people started to leave.
"You really should be more careful, you know," said Roy. "You don't want it to end, like it did for the boy who cried over spilled milk."
"Who cried over spilled milk?" James asked.
"Beau Marceau did. He spilled some milk. Now look at him."
They glanced at Beau Marceau who was further down the hall miming cleaning spilled milk.
"You almost had us there," Roy went on. "But there is no werewolf. You know why? Because if a werewolf had been living here for 500 years many people would have noticed it. Everyone knows it's just a Slim Shadow."
Flitters arrived and everybody followed him into the classroom.
"They didn't believe me!" said Sirius.
"Well," said James. "I'm not even sure I believe you."
"I stabbed it on the nose. You saw it."
"Did you? Did you really?"
"Yes and you saw it! You asked if the blood on the dragon claw could be used for DNA testing and I had to remind you that the aurors are bought and paid for! You really think you're the first to think of DNA testing?"
Yes, James had actually thought that. He threw the classroom a quick glance. Flitters was getting his stepping stool.
"To be honest I'm just not sure what I saw. What did I really see and what has my mind been filling in, you know?"
"Not really. You just had to say it breathed fire. That completely ruined our credibility. This is just a perfect illustration of the power of denial. What a bunch of sheeple."
"Some people don't want to think about things that are scary and hard. But that's ok because we have me. I will kill it easy-peasy. What is the best way to do that though?"
"You bind a squib to a tree somewhere and wait."
"I'll think of something."
Flitters came out and hurried past them because he had brought one kilogramme of feathers, but forgotten the steel.
"You know," said James, "With Rem having to look after his dying aunt so much I wonder if anybody is keeping him up to date with assignments and stuff. Maybe we should ask Flitters about that."
"I think McGonagall is probably doing that," said Sirius.
"Man it must be difficult, to have only one relative that could die at any moment. The only thing that can prolong her life is that crocodile poem from Alice In Wonderland. I do wonder, how that aunt is doing right now."
He thought about that poor aunt. Then Fletcher happened to walk by, heading for a different class.
"My mum is fine! Thanks for caring!"
"Um how nice but we weren't talking about your mum!" Sirius shouted after him.
Fletcher stopped and turned.
"Weren't you? Sorry it sounded like you were talking about Rem's aunt."
"We were. Not your mum."
"Well it so happens that his aunt is my mum. You see? We are cousins."
He resumed walking. Such a terrible secret being sprung upon them so suddenly like this, it left the chaps deeply shocked. To be related to Fletcher, could anything be more stigmatising?
"Must be a different aunt," said James.
Fletcher came back.
"Nope he only has one aunt."
"Then why aren't you looking after your dying mum?"
Fletcher lit up.
"Because she isn't dying any more! She was cured!"
James and Sirius gasped with their eyes.
"Your mum was cured?"
"She was cured of her impostor syndrome! The cure turned up at the doorstep and his name was Jesus! These two fellows with bibbles explained it all. She is now a Jehovah's Witness. Oh... if only Jesus could do something for Rem and his returning appendix."
Fletcher shuffled away.
"What?" said James. "Returning appendix?"
Fletcher shuffled back.
"He had to have his appendix removed a while back. But the thing is, he has this super rare condition known as Blinken-Nuland's Syndrome. It means, the appendix keeps regenerating itself. And then it gets inflamed. And needs removing. Man, it sounds frustrating. Such an extremely rare condition it is too, one that is only treated at St Mungos. Oh God I hope it's not hereditary! Anyway, perhaps I should send a card. Well see you."
He left again.
McGonagall was rubbing a cat tree with washing up gloves when James and Sirius popped by to ask for permission to go to St Mungos.
"Hi professor McGonagall!"
McGonagall turned around, panting slightly.
"Well hello there!" she replied.
And removed the gloves and threw them in the fire.
"Can I help yous at all?"
She seemed to be in such an un-frumpy mood, that James wished he had prepared a list.
"We want to go to St Mungos and see Remus is that ok?"
McGonagall picked up a watering can and began to soak a dead plant.
"Mr Lupin is not at St Mungos."
"Ok. Where is he then?"
"He's in the hospital wing."
"Oh. Ok we'll just go there then. Sorry to have bothered you professor McGonagall."
"I wouldn't go there for at least another week. I think you should talk to doctor Pomfrey first and see if you can arrange something."
The chaps thanked her and moved on. James's mind went back to quidditch matters immediately, and the team he needed to start putting together.
"Rising up! Back on the stree-eet!"
"Do you need more help with that song you are working on?" Sirius asked. "I have more lyrics for you!"
"I'll let you know if I want it."
They were just strolling around. Or in James's case rolling around on wide polished floors. Sometimes he went up the walls and did super cool loops.
He landed with a big clonk and the wheels screeched to a halt.
"I should have some wings put on the wheels!" he said.
Then the nurse came and shouted at him that it wasn't a toy and took it from him, because he didn't need it any more.
"Oh man," James sighed. "Now I know what Neil Armstrong must have felt like, when his physiotherapist told him he'd be forced to walk again. People with no legs have it so easy."
"Well, seeing as your excuse is gone..," said Sirius.
They hadn't been back to the hidey hole since the night because the tunnel hadn't been made to accommodate the handicapped, which was discrimination.
"You mean YOUR excuse is gone!" James countered. " 'I can't leave you alone, you'll run somebody over again!' "
"Let's go there later then."
It was decided.
It was very, very late when James and Sirius climbed out the dorm window and hopped on the Ziggy Stardust. They were at the tree less than a minute later. Another minute later and they were at the door at the end of the tunnel.
They undid the locks and entered. Scanned the empty room as they stepped inside.
At first glance the place looked exactly like they remembered it. It was possibly cleaner, which would make sense.
But the shifter had missed a spot.
The ceiling.
It was covered in large slashes and bloody paw prints.
It was all so weird, so unsettling, so chilling, so... somehow not seeming right.
"Maybe it was a Slim Shadow after all," James thought.
"What are you, a child? It was a werewolf! And this is his trap!"
"You have never watched Warlock Gnomes have you?"
"Oh please not you too..."
"Some trap, that is hard to get into and locks from the outside."
Sirius paced around, fingers Warlock Gnomes-like to his lips.
"Once you've eliminated the impossible, what remains is what is most improbable. There is either another way in, or the locks can somehow be unlocked from inside. So we're dealing with a shifter who brings his prey here. Who can blame him for not wanting to mess up his house with DNA samples."
It appeared as though somebody had last met their splitting here on New Years Eve. The thought made James's stomach turn. Not because it could have been either him or Sirius...
"Do you think it had someone in here? When we were just outside? And we didn't even know?"
If that was the case it was practically their fault.
"We didn't hear anybody scream did we?" said Sirius.
No screams. That was worse than screams because they would have reacted to screams. There was even a bit of blood splatter left in some other easy-to-miss areas.
Perhaps it was a little too early to rule out the Slim Shadow.