The Marauders and the Fetch of Hogwarts

The next morning James was once again fine with Remus, to Remus' relief. He'd explained everything that had happened to Lily, leaving out who Lily saw in the mirror. When asked, he only said she hadn't told him. He figured that was the smart thing to say. If Remus acknowledged that he knew, James would hound him until Remus gave in. If he confessed ignorance, Remus figured he stood a better chance at surviving James' pestering.

There were eight more days until the next full moon and the boys spent the time getting into mischief per usual. Most of the pranks involved each other or fellow Gryffindors. One was a small revenge on a couple of third year Ravenclaws but everything was mild compared to what they were planning for the Slytherins after the winter holidays.

Dumbledore had helped keep up the charade of Remus' "special project" by occasionally stopping Remus for chats regarding his "research". If Sirius, James and Peter hung around the comments from the Headmaster were generalized, as were Remus' answers. If the two of them were alone, Dumbledore had more specific thoughts to share.

"I suggest," he told Remus two days before the full moon, "that you try to avoid drinking or eating anything heavy that day, Remus."

"Why?" Remus asked puzzledly.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Less painful to transform with an empty stomach I've heard."

Remus thought about it and then nodded. "I'll give it a whack," he agreed. Dumbledore smiled at the slang.

Right before bed the night before a glass of water appeared in front of him, attached to James' hand. "What's this for?" Remus asked, taking the full water glass and placing it on his bedside table.

"Just drink it," James told him, his hazel eyes serious.

Remus was immediately wary. "Why?"

"Trust me. It will help," was the only answer he got. A few moments later, when Remus still hadn't drunk the glass of water James impatiently sighed, snatched up the glass and shoved it back at his friend. "Will you drink this already?"

Remus frowned but did as he was told. He spent a sleepless hour examining himself in the dark, suspecting that James had done something to the water for a joke. It had tasted like water, smelled like water, so after awhile Remus concluded James was just being weird again and fell asleep.

The morning of the full moon found Remus tired but not as tired as usual for the day of an impending full moon. His joints seemed to ache a bit less. Again a glass of water appeared next to his breakfast plate instead of Remus' customary pumpkin juice.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked as James pushed the glass helpfully toward him.

"Just do it, Moo-Remus," James told him distractedly. He was staring at Sirius, who was staring at Peter, who was scribbling in his little notebook again.

Remus rolled his eyes and did as he was told. The glass kept refilling through out the meal. A glass of water appeared at lunch and at supper, but Remus ate very little, per Dumbledore's instructions, which was all very well, as he was full of water. His friends only frowned as it seeming lack of appetite, but they said nothing.

As dusk approached, Remus made his excuses for his special instruction with Dumbledore and left his three friends playing Gobstones in a corner of the common room. They waved absently at him, absorbed in the game. Relieved that there wasn't going to be too much fuss, Remus met up with Madam Pomfrey in the foyer and walked with her to the Whomping Willow.

"I think we're cutting it too close," Remus told her. "I can feel the moon tugging hard tonight."

Madam Pomfrey frowned a moment and then nodded. "We'll have to remember that next month, dear." As the entrance closed, Remus heard her say, "See you in the morning."

He left his clothes in their customary hidey-hole and slipped into the Shrieking Shack proper. He shivered slightly, resolving to remind Dumbledore that it was time to put a warming charm on the shack now that winter was almost here. Remus' last conscious thought was that it didn't seem to hurt as much to change as it did last month. After that, the human thought no more.

The wolf, however, was completely alert an hour following his transformation. The scent of human was in the air and it wasn't the usual human smell of the old man who occasionally lingered outside the shack. Pacing the downstairs, the werewolf would stop here and there to poke his nose in the air and take a deep sniff. Eventually, using the new smells as a guide, the wolf located the tunnel and quietly worked his way toward the entrance.

"Is this a good idea?" The very soft words made no sense to the wolf but he heard them all the same.

"Ssh!" came a hiss and the wolf backed up a bit, slightly alarmed at the hiss. The smell of young humans was very strong and coming in his direction. The saliva began to fill the wolf's mouth. He had yet to taste human flesh and the urge to rip and tear was almost overpowering. The werewolf knew, though, that to find prey, one had to hunt it. Since the prey was unwittingly walking right into his lair, the werewolf figured he all the time in the world to wait for the perfect attack. Crouching in the dark, the werewolf waited and listened.

"All right, this is far enough. The book said -" The soft voice, vaguely familiar to the wolf for some reason, stopped suddenly. The smell of fear and tension filled the werewolf's nostrils. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" came another voice, one the wolf didn't recognize at all.

"I thought...is that breathing?"

"Yeah, we're all breathing, you prat," came the other voice but another "Ssh!" ceased the talking altogether.

"You're right, Peter, this was a bad idea." There was a brief scuffle and the sound of the humans retreating reached the wolf.

Sensing that he was about to lose his prey the werewolf gave up the strategy of lying in wait and charged down the tunnel. "Holy Hell!" came a shout over the din of snarling werewolf and there were pounding footsteps toward the entrance. "Run, dammit, Peter, RUN!"

The werewolf, maddened by the smell of fear and the need for human flesh, roared into a faint light emanating from what looked like twigs. Three young human males stood frozen a moment and then began to back pedal as fast as they could. The tunnel shrunk little by little and soon the boys were at the end. Feeling triumphant, the werewolf lunged at his intended prey, only to get stuck at a narrow turn of the tunnel.

The boys scrambled for something in the dirt and an opening appeared. Enraged, the werewolf struggled to get free, to catch them before they escaped, but all the wolf managed to do was get free going back the way he'd come. He furiously dug at the tunnel walls, desperate, still raging and snarling long past the time when the boys slipped through the opening that closed behind them.