Moony And Padfoot

Note: This story was written before 'Goblet of Fire' was published; hence some of the things here contradict what we learned from it. I hope this doesn't harm anyone's enjoyment of the story.

~

Back in Llyn Alwyn, Remus considered things. At least he had succeeded in part. He wished he had been able to speak to Sirius, but surely, if Sirius had any sense, he would go to some other part of the country where the search was less frantic. Not that sense and Sirius had ever been two concepts that went together very well, but there was always hope.

He was surprised and pleased to find how much the little cottage felt like home. It had been a long time since anywhere felt like his home, accustomed as he had been to moving from one dingy flat to another as his secret was revealed. But the half-lit windows seemed to be welcoming him as he walked up the path at dusk.

On his dresser lay the parcel that had started it all, still unopened. Now he peeled off the brown paper. Inside was a letter, and another package. Remus unfolded the letter.

Dear Remus,

Please find enclosed something which I would like you to pass on to Sirius if you should see him. He will find it very useful. Do not open it yourself, and take good care of it.

I hope you’re getting on well; if you need any help do not hesitate to ask me.

Yours,

Albus Dumbledore.

Remus nearly dropped the package when he read this. The sly old fox! How on earth had he found out where he was living? He put it carefully on the mantle, wondering what it might be, and dropped the note in the fire. It was unlikely that he would find Sirius now, though. And if he did, there would surely be trouble.

The next day, he resumed his work in the garden. It had not been very successful at first, but the winter flowers were starting to flourish. The few days’ neglect did not seem to have done them any harm. He carefully uprooted the first of the Lords and Ladies that were shining red in the hedgerow, and packaged them to send to the Herbal Suppliers. He read the Daily Prophet religiously, but there was no more news of Sirius.

About a week later, it was the full moon. As the sun was sinking blood-red in the west, Remus went wearily to the shed where he locked himself when he transformed, and bolted the door firmly. Night fell, and he felt the beginnings of the transformation. Then his mind was swamped by wave after wave of the familiar pain, and the werewolf appeared.

When he was a wolf, Remus was still aware of what was going on around him. Some part of his mind remained; a part that could see and hear, but could not react to anything. It was like a dream, where he did not fully comprehend what was going on until he awoke and he had no control over events. Only in the presence of Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs did his own mind resurface. And, of course, the Wolfsbane Potion inhibited the werewolf completely. But now his small voice was drowned out by the werewolf’s instincts and lusts.

The door to the shed had been gouged and cracked by repeated attacks over the months, and the werewolf flung himself at it. The hinges gave out an ominous creak. After a few more assaults, the door crashed open and the werewolf was loose.

He hesitated for a split second as Remus fought for control, and then loped towards the hills, in the opposite direction to the village. The night animals heard, or smelt his coming, and vanished back to their holes. For many hours he roamed the hills, the wolf exulting in his mastery of the land. In a clearing, he came to a stop. The full moon was riding high in the west, looking down through tattered veils of clouds. The wolf howled long and loud. Then he sniffed the wind. A person, not far away. Moving on silent paws, he paced towards his prey.

The person was sitting huddled in a hollow, in a more sheltered part of the cold hills. He pulled a filthy, tattered cloak over him and tried to sleep a little. He was startled out of his wistful half-waking dreams about warmth and food by a howl that lifted the hairs along his spine. He tensed, his heart pounding. Then, a moment later, he saw a huge wolf moving through the shadows, and his blood ran cold. He swallowed hard as he realised that it was a werewolf.

He struggled to his feet, wincing as he put his lame leg on the ground. The wolf rushed at him, snarling a challenge. At the same moment, there was a flicker where the man had been, and a gaunt black dog was there. The werewolf could not turn its spring aside, and for a moment the dog was crushed beneath him. Padfoot twisted frantically as the werewolf seized him in his jaws. His mind was racing. Perhaps, just perhaps…

He barked sharply, in the old pattern. The werewolf hesitated, and Padfoot broke out of his grip. In the werewolf’s mind, Remus was struggling with himself. He lunged forward again, then checked himself. Padfoot watched tensely as the werewolf seemed to sway to and fro in a kind of strange dance. It must be him.

The tiny part of Remus’ mind that remained even when he was transformed was shouting at him. Stop it, you idiot. It’s Padfoot!

Then Padfoot saw his old friend’s expression looking through the wolf’s yellow eyes. Relief washed over him, with a thousand questions rushing though his mind. What on earth was Remus doing here? Why? He became aware of the pain from the werewolf’s bite and his lame leg. He stumbled forward.

Remus, looking at him with the wolf’s keen eyes, decided it would be best if they went back to his house. A wash of contrition filled him as he saw the gashes he had made. In a movement that would have seemed almost comical to an observer, he licked at them with his rough tongue.

Then he led Padfoot down off the mountain to the valley and the lake. They went very slowly, for Padfoot was both lame and weak with exhaustion, and often the werewolf had to encourage him on with nudges and barks. They reached his cottage as the sky turned from black to navy, and streaks of gold appeared behind the eastern hills. Knowing he would be unsafe when he transformed, Remus left Padfoot lying panting at the bottom of the garden, and vanished behind the hedge.

The transformation occurred as the moon sank below the horizon, as it always did. For a while afterwards, Remus lay exhausted and racked by pain on the cold ground. Finally he dragged himself up, thinking of Padfoot.

The huge black dog still lay curled on the ground.

‘Sirius,’ said Remus in a hoarse voice. ‘Sirius. You’ve got to transform back.’ He stroked the dog’s thin head gently. ‘Come on, Padfoot.’ The dog heaved himself to his feet, and there was the flicker whilst he transformed. It took far longer than usual, but finally Sirius was sitting half-collapsed on the ground.

‘Are you all right?’ Remus asked urgently. There was a ragged bandage around Sirius’ leg, he was even thinner than he had been before, and his face was chalky under his matted hair.

‘Oh … Moony,’ Sirius gasped. ‘What - what on earth are you doing here?’

‘I live here. Come on, come inside, you’re freezing.’ He helped Sirius to his feet; and leaning on Remus’ arm he went into the house. Remus looked ruefully at the half-destroyed shed.

Inside, Sirius sat exhausted on the chair, and Remus pointed his wand at the hearth. The cottage was filled with a sudden warmth, and Sirius gave a sigh.

‘You gave me quite a shock … back there,’ he said after a few moments. ‘I was rather worried until I realised it was you.’

Remus’ eyes were tormented. ‘I could have killed you, if I hadn’t realised in time.’

‘Well, you didn’t,’ said Sirius in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘And if I hadn’t met you I'd still be freezing and starving up there. Don’t worry about it, Moony. You worry too much as it is.’

His words jolted Remus’ mind. ‘I’ll get you something to eat, and then I’ll see about your leg. Hang on a moment.’

He returned with food and a hot drink, and they both ate ravenously. When his hunger had been blunted, Sirius looked around. ‘This is nice, this place of yours. But how come you’re not at Hogwarts?’

‘I resigned.’ A shadow crossed Remus’ face.

‘You what? I thought – I kind of got the impression the students liked you. I always thought you’d make a good teacher.’ Sirius looked at him incredulously.

‘Well, Snape told the students about me, and I had to leave. I wasn’t really safe, anyhow.’

‘He’s really got it in for you, hasn’t he? He’s getting worse, I swear.’ Sirius spat in the fire, which hissed in answer. Mention of Snape reminded Remus of his news.

‘Sirius, Snape’s told the Ministry about you being an Animagus. They’re looking for a big black dog as well now.’

Sirius’ eyes flashed dangerously. ‘The sneaking slimeball! How in hell did he find out?’

‘In the Shrieking Shack, you remember? He had James’ Invisibility Cloak, and he was listening to it all.’

‘Just let me get my hands on him, just once….’ Sirius clenched his fists and muttered maledictions under his breath.

‘Let me have a look at your leg,’ said Remus after a pause. He bent down and with hands as gentle as a mother he took off the old and filthy bandage. Beneath was a deep, ragged gash, and it was red and swollen horribly. Remus drew in his breath sharply. ‘I'd be happier if a Healer had a look at this, but I guess that’s out of the question. Well, I’ll do what I can.’

He went to the kitchen, and returned with a bowl of warm water, a handful of old cloths and some strange-looking herbs that Sirius did not recognise.

‘It’ll probably hurt a bit; I’ll be as careful as I can.’ He began to wash off the mud and grit. ‘It’s terribly risky, being around here, Sirius. Why on earth didn’t you go somewhere else?’

‘Couldn’t go anywhere like this, could I?’ said Sirius with an ironic smile. ‘I thought I'd be all right letting myself be seen here, thought it would help lift the security on Hogwarts, but it didn’t go quite as planned.’

Remus rolled his eyes. ‘Perhaps one day you’ll learn the meaning of the word ‘careful’. What happened?‘

‘Well, I deliberately let a Muggle see me, and he screamed – it was just a little kid, so I thought I'd be safe. But then he came running after me, and I raced off. I got this –‘ he gestured to his leg ‘- climbing over a barbed-wire fence. I don’t know why the Muggles use that stuff so much. And it just kind of got worse.’

‘It’s not worth it, you idiot, taking that kind of risk, even for Harry. Won’t you ever learn to take care of yourself?’ Remus tore up one of the strange plants and dropped it into the water. It fizzled and steamed, and Sirius looked down in alarm.

‘This will probably sting a bit,’ Remus apologised, soaking the rags in the greenish liquid. He began to rinse the wound with the solution. Sirius caught his breath and then let it out in a long hiss. When Remus had finished, he looked at himself curiously. The angry red lines of the infection had gone, though the gash was still open.

‘Now, I don’t know how to heal this up, so I’ll just bandage it. You’ll have to rest it for a bit.’

‘Okay. You’re a pretty good Healer, Remus.’

A strange crease of pain crossed Remus’ face. ‘I had the best teacher,’ he said as lightly as he could.

‘Where will you go?’ asked Remus after a moment of awkward silence. ‘It’s probably best if you stay here for a while, but once you’re a bit better…?’

‘I don’t really know yet. I left Buckbeak in the Outer Hebrides – that’s pretty remote – but he’ll be all right there, and I have some other ideas.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, there’s only one thing I actually want.’ His eyes hardened. ‘I'm going to find that lying, cheating traitor if it’s the last thing I do. I don’t care where he is, I’ll search him out.’ He stared beyond the window, not really seeing the landscape. Both were silent, remembering the Shrieking Shack.

‘You won’t kill him, if you do find him?’ said Remus after a moment.

‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘I want to – my God, I've never wanted anything so much – but I won’t. Without him, the Ministry will never believe the truth. Even Dumbledore wouldn’t be able to persuade them.’

‘Where will you go, then?’

‘I don’t know. He’ll be wherever Voldemort is, I suppose. I’ll try to find him.’

‘That won’t be easy, not with the entire country looking for you. Wouldn’t it be better for you to go into hiding – back to the Hebrides or something?’

‘Easier, perhaps, but – well, that’s not what I want to do. It’s not just for me, you know. Pettigrew will help Voldemort if I can’t find him. And he might try – try to kill Harry.’ Remus bit his lip, knowing the truth in Sirius’ words. For a while, they sat in silence.

‘Remus?’ There was an urgency in Sirius’ voice that made him look up.

‘Yes?’

‘Will you promise me something?’

‘Of course.’ Sirius’ shadowed eyes seemed to be boring into his soul. ‘What is it?’

‘If they catch me … you know what – what they’ll do?’ He swallowed.

‘The Dementor’s Kiss?’

Sirius nodded. For a moment he was silent, groping for words.

Then, very quietly, he said, ‘I don’t want that to happen to me, Remus, I – I've seen pictures of what it’s like, I couldn’t bear it ….’ His voice broke and he looked away. ‘Remus, if – if they catch me, I want you to kill me … before that happens.’

Remus drew in his breath sharply. Before he could answer, Sirius continued, ‘I would kill myself, but – but I don’t know if I’ll be able to … if I’ll have the guts. But promise me, Remus, promise me you won’t let me have my – my soul taken like that.’

Fearing to speak lest he lose his fragile self-control, Remus nodded heavily. He gazed into the fire unseeingly.

Then he noticed the brown package on the mantle.

‘Oh – Sirius, I have something for you,’ he said. He got up and picked it up. ‘Dumbledore sent it to me for you. Heaven knows how he knew you’d be here, but he did. Have a look.’

Sirius took the package between thin hands, and opened it. Inside was a collection of tattered old papers. He flipped through them. ‘I don’t believe it!’ he cried. ‘How on earth did he know?’ He unscrolled one and began to read it avidly.

‘What are they?’ asked Remus after a moment.

‘Look-‘ Sirius held out one of the sheaves of paper. Remus looked at the seal on the front of a phoenix that seemed to shine from the dark background.

‘These are the old League files,’ he said unnecessarily, surprised. He opened it.

The League Against Voldemort

Top Secret

Information on the Whereabouts of Voldemort.

Inside were all the records of Voldemort’s hiding places, updated to the present.

‘Well,’ said Remus with respect. ‘You’ll have a much easier time with these. How does he do it? Sending it to me, and with the things you need most? It’s unbelievable.’

‘He know us both pretty well now, doesn’t he?’ Sirius smiled. Then he gave an ear-splitting yawn.

‘I tell you, Moony, I know how you feel now, not getting any sleep at nights,’ he commented.

‘I’ll go make the spare room up for you, then.’ Remus vanished upstairs.

When he came back down, Sirius was already asleep in the armchair, a piece of paper fallen from his hand beside him. Deciding not to disturb him, Remus gently pulled a blanket around him where he sat, and went to mend the shed door.

~

‘So, do you know where you’re going to go?’ It was dawn, a week later. Sirius was looking far neater than he ever had in the past thirteen years, washed and with his hair cut back in its old style. He was less gaunt, and there was a warmth in his eyes that had been missing over the long years in Azkaban, the warmth of someone used to human companionship.

‘It said on those papers that Voldemort was last recorded as being in Albania, so I suppose I’ll go there. It’s not the safest place at the moment, I think the Muggles are having a war somewhere near, but it doesn’t matter. Pettigrew will be making his way there as well.’ His expression darkened for a moment.

‘Well, then, I guess it’s goodbye. I'd come with you, you know that, but I don’t think I'd be any use to you.’ Remus sighed. ‘I can’t travel as a wolf, and if I could I'd probably be more of a liability than anything else. But be careful, please, Sirius. Don’t take any silly risks.’

‘Do I ever?’

Remus laughed. ‘Or tell too many lies.’

‘You can talk.’ They looked at each other with amusement; it sounded like an old joke.

‘Well, you’ve got everything I can give you. You know, Sirius, if you want any help from me, you just have to send me an owl or something. I’ll always come.’

Sirius reached out suddenly and embraced his old friend. ‘Take – take care, Remus,’ he said in a strangely gentle voice. ‘I’ll miss you.’

‘So will I.’

At last Sirius turned away.

‘Good luck,’ said Remus unsteadily.

Sirius only gave him his old flashing smile, and walked down the path. Remus followed him with his eyes until he was only a speck on the road. Even after he was out of sight, Remus stared after him. My only friend, he thought. God alone knows when I’ll see him again.

He turned and went slowly back inside.

THE END

Some questions.

I've been wondering for some time now how much Remus is aware of when he transforms. As he remembers what happens, (c.f. at the end of 'The Prisoner of Azkaban' where he says in the morning that he didn’t eat anything whilst he was transformed), I have concluded that his mind is still present. Of course, it can’t be fully in control. The analogy of a dream was the best I could think of. If anyone has any other ideas, let me know.

The second thing is something that’s just occurred to me. Does he transform when the sun sets, or when he comes into the light of the full moon? If the former, why isn’t he transformed in the Shrieking Shack? If the latter, how could he go to the Shrieking Shack to transform if it’s at the end of a tunnel and the windows are boarded up? Presumably he does not transform before he enters the tunnel, as this would be very dangerous for Madam Pomfrey. And what happens when it’s cloudy (and believe me, it’s cloudy most of the time here in England, especially at night)? I think that normally the transformation occurs at sunset (which is the same as moonrise when the moon is full – I know my moon tables), but that the Wolfsbane Potion he had been taking must have had some kind of side effect that made the Shrieking Shack possible. If anyone knows how this was possible, tell me, please.
Blaise.