Three Animagi and a Werewolf

Three Animagi and a Werewolf, Chapter 9: Chaser

Magical Mischief-Makers

James Potter checked his watch.

"It's nearly time, Moony," he said.

They were all sitting together in the otherwise deserted Gryffindor common room. Remus looked up from a thick book on ancient runes.

"Okay," he sighed, "I'd better go and find Madam Pomfrey then."

He closed his book and, laying it aside, went towards the portrait hole.

"Hey, Remus," Sirius called when he was halfway through, "See you later."

Remus smiled. Yes, he would see them later. This would be the first full moon where he was not alone.

He walked down to the Whomping Willow with Madam Pomfrey, feeling considerably less miserable than he normally did. The nurse prodded the trunk with a long stick and the willow froze.

"In you go then, dear," Madam Pomfrey said, looking sorry for him.

"Good night," said Remus.

He continued alone into the passage, leading away from the castle towards the village of Hogsmeade. A few moments later, he came out in the Shrieking Shack. He pulled up one of the few chairs that were still intact and sat down. The waiting was often the worst part. He would sit here, wishing he at least had a book to read, and knowing that it would be no use, because he would tear it up as soon as the full moon came out.

But today he did not have to wait very long alone. Madam Pomfrey had barely been gone ten minutes when there was a scuffling noise by the door, and it opened a fraction to let in a grey rat that hurried over to Remus's side.

Remus got to his feet just as the door opened wider and a shaggy black dog entered, followed by a tall stag.

"You shouldn't be here yet," he said, worried. "You should have waited until you knew I'd transformed."

"Sorry," James replied, materialising in human form to Remus's utter horror, "We were impatient. We thought we'd keep you company."

Remus was shaking his head desperately.

"No, James, don't you understand? It's going to be difficult enough when I have transformed, but while I actually do ... You can't imagine what it's like, James. It's not just the pain, it's ..."

He broke off as the first moonlight shimmered through a crack in the wood. Sirius's shackles were rising. Peter had withdrawn into a hidden corner. James stood rooted to the spot, watching, while Remus's back stiffened and he lurched forward, grabbing the back of the chair. His fingers were becoming hard and bony, turning into long claws. The colour left James's face.

"Remus," he muttered, taking a step towards him.

"Don't!" Remus cried with a final effort, backing away. "Go! Now, James!"

His shoulders humped and he cried out in agony. His face lengthened, fur began to creep over his whole body, and he gave a long, painful howl. He turned, and his claws slashed the wooden boards covering one of the windows. A rain of splinters came down on him, and he howled again. His claws ripped at his own flesh, and James watched in terror as blood gushed from the self-inflicted wound. And then the thing that his friend had become turned to face him.

In a flash, James remembered his dream of long ago. He had been running both from and towards something big and terrifying, but at the same time weak and helpless. He knew that was what he was looking at now. He knew that, though Remus would never wish to harm him, he was not safe.

Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, the werewolf prepared to leap on him. But then something large and black shot past James and flung itself at the werewolf. James, coming out of his momentary stupor, realised what he must do. While Sirius and Remus lay locked together, rolling on the floor, he quickly transformed back into a stag and joined the fray.

It was several minutes of snapping, biting and prodding with his horns later that he and Sirius finally had the werewolf under control. It cowered in a corner of the room looking forlorn, and at last James was able to approach safely and bow his wise stag's head towards it. The werewolf avoided his gaze at first, but then it looked up into the stag's eyes, and it seemed to James that suddenly something softened within the mind of the beast, as though his friend's spirit was struggling to assert itself. The werewolf stopped trembling. It raised itself off the ground and paced the floor. Then it threw back its head and howled, but this time it was a different kind of sound. It sounded free and almost contented.

Deeming it safe to come out now, Peter scuttled back into the room. Sirius was licking a wound to his front forepaw. James pranced towards the door and nudged it open. He motioned the others to follow him. Peter hurried out ahead of the others. Sirius followed close behind. James stood in the doorway, looking back at the werewolf. He inclined his head, nodding towards the door. The werewolf looked hesitant. James nodded his magnificent head slowly, and at last his friend approached and went out along the tunnel with the others.

Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw

It was a cold evening and the Gryffindor common room was crowded. Remus sat in a high-backed chair in the corner, holding a book up to his face and pretending to be reading, when in fact he was going through one of his usual self-accusing phases. He couldn't deny that his last transformations hadn't been as bad as the ones he had had before. Ever since James and Sirius had learnt how to control him, he himself had proved able to fight against the beast inside him, and to remain relatively sane and 'human'.

They had used the nights of his transformations to fully explore the Hogwarts grounds and the village of Hogsmeade, sometimes straying dangerously near the houses. Thus they had added many more secret passages in and out of the grounds to their map, seeking the entrances to those that ended in the village and learning the layout of the castle better than even Dumbledore himself knew it.

Yet Remus felt guilty every time, knowing that he was betraying the trust placed in him by Dumbledore, the other teachers and not least his own parents. No matter how he looked at it, there was always a risk that he would give the others the slip one night and hurt someone. And that was the last thing he wanted to do. Still he could not wholly convince himself to stop. He had tried to, he had even spoken to the others about it, but they had told him not to worry so much, that he was entitled to some fun as much as anyone else and that they couldn't possibly enjoy their night-time escapades as much without him.

And so Remus continued to roam the grounds with his friends under the full moon, and he couldn't even deny that he enjoyed it. But that didn't alter the fact that he felt guilty, and right now he was in a glum mood, even though he was healthier than he had been in a long while. It seemed the presence of his friends not only allowed him to keep his mind, but also strengthened his very body, so that the transformations ceased to take such a terrible toll on him.

"And what are you brooding about?" a voice said just beside him.

He looked up with a start to see James standing by his elbow.

"I'm not brooding," he lied. "I was reading."

"What? Reading the same page for ten minutes, you mean?"

James sat down in the chair next to him and looked around the common room.

"You've been telling yourself that it's wrong to go out with us at night, haven't you?"

Remus frowned. There was never any point in trying to hide what he felt from James. The trouble was that James was too understanding. More than any of his other friends, he always seemed to know what was troubling Remus, and that could sometimes be very awkward, because James also never kept this knowledge to himself. Right now, however, Remus didn't feel like talking about it, so he changed the subject.

"How did the Quidditch training go?" he asked.

James's brow furrowed. He had been longing for the Quidditch season to begin. Now that it had, he was feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation as well as nervousness before the first game.

"I don't know," he said. "Ravenclaw are going to be a tough struggle tomorrow. They've put together a strong side."

"They can't beat the best chaser Hogwarts has ever seen, though," Remus assured him.

The next day, James said goodbye to his friends before entering the changing rooms.

"Don't worry," Remus said, "You'll do fine."

"Yeah - don't you dare let us down, or else," Sirius joked.

"Good luck, James," said Peter.

James nodded tightly and walked away to join the rest of his team.

"Come on," said Sirius eagerly, "Let's go and find ourselves some good seats."

They made for the tall stands, Sirius chatting, Peter listening and Remus tagging behind, allowing his thoughts to dwell on other matters, going back to his doubts of the night before. It just wasn't safe.

Remus was so deep in thought that he collided suddenly with a student hurrying the other way.

"Oh, sorry," a timid voice said.

Remus looked down. There stood one of the first year Ravenclaws, a petite girl with pale skin and brown curly hair. He remembered having seen her being sorted at the beginning of the school year.

"No," he said frankly, "It was my fault, sorry. I should look where I'm going."

The girl muttered something incoherently. She looked up, blushing, and suddenly Remus found himself staring into a pair of clear, sky-blue eyes. For a minute, he didn't know what to say. Then another girl called,

"Heather! Heather, we're over here!"

"Excuse me," Heather mumbled shyly.

She took to her heels and ran to join the other girls, but when she reached them she looked back briefly. Remus just stood there, until he heard his own name being called. Sirius and Peter were waving at him to come and join them. He made his way slowly to the stands.

James marched out onto the pitch with the others, his faithful broom tucked under his arm. The captains shook hands and both teams rose high into the air on their broomsticks. James looked around the stadium. He could see Professor McGonagall with a Gryffindor scarf tied around the collar of her robes, and Professor Flitwick waving a Ravenclaw flag. He searched the rows of students and spotted Lily Evans waving together with the other Gryffindor girls. A bit further on sat Sirius, Remus and Peter, all waving with both hands and giving him thumbs-ups.

Far below on the ground, Professor Quagmire blew his whistle and released the four balls. James briefly caught sight of the golden snitch before it disappeared, almost as soon as it had been set free. He concentrated on the centre of the pitch, relying on the beaters and ignoring the bludgers. The annual Quidditch tournament had only just begun, which meant that there was no need yet for the seekers to play for points. The sooner either of them could catch the snitch, the better. Meanwhile, it was the job of the chasers to simply score as many goals as they could. Across the pitch, just above the Ravenclaw goalposts, James caught sight of Mary Crimple, their seeker, closely followed by the Gryffindor seeker Donald Gills.

"Gryffindor in possession!" cried Hufflepuff sixth-year Michael Hornby, who was commentating.

James snatched the quaffle out of the air and sped away to the sound of loud cheering from the stands and Michael's voice shouting,

"James Potter is flying like a cannonball, the Ravenclaw chasers don't stand a chance of catching up with him - no, hang on - ouch, that must have hurt!"

From James's point of view, it looked like all the other players around him were performing upside-down broom ballets. The bludger had caught him right in the stomach, but he hung on to his broom and brought himself upright once more to the sound of the bad news:

"Tom Royle's got the quaffle, and he's racing towards the Gryffindor goalposts. He dodges a bludger - no, two - he's zooming straight for the target, he's released the quaffle - "

A roar went up from the crowd.

"Brilliant save by the Gryffindor keeper!" Michael Hornby commented.

James grinned. There was no beating Colin, he was a marvellous keeper.

He looked across the pitch towards the goalposts, and then he saw Donald Gills zooming after a glimmer of gold circling around the right-hand goalpost, then darting away towards the stands ... Mary Crimple had seen it too, and as luck would have it, she was nearer that end at the moment.

James turned his attention back to the quaffle, while the Gryffindor crowd watched with baited breath as Donald Gills flattened himself against his broom and urged it forward, using all the speed he could muster to reach the snitch before Mary did, but there was no denying she was fast. There was no way he could beat her to it. So instead he swerved. The crowd gasped, wondering what he was up to. Donald charged straight at Mary, daring her to stay on course or avoid him, forfeiting her chance to catch the snitch.

She was keeping her broom steady, seemingly taking no notice of him. Donald was almost level with her, any second now he would have to loop back or crash into her - then, just at the last moment, Mary dived out of his way. Donald performed a spectacular loop and returned the right way up, scanning the air with his eyes to find the elusive snitch again, but it was gone. A sigh of disappointment went through the Gryffindor crowd, and suddenly the chasers became the focus of attention once more.

James caught the quaffle after an excellent pass from his team mate and tuned back in to Michael's commentary while he raced through the air, dodging a bludger here and a Ravenclaw chaser there and making straight for the goalposts.

"And it's Potter for Gryffindor," Michael Hornby commentated. "He passes the quaffle to Botch, the Ravenclaw beater aims a bludger at her - whew, it missed her by an inch! She throws it back to Potter, he's going for the goal now, he's going to score - no! Ross saves and throws the quaffle back to Royle. He's really going for it now, he's got a clear shot - no he hasn't, a bludger comes spinning his way! Ow! Royle takes a bludger on the head, but the quaffle's still flying, flying ... It's in!"

The Ravenclaw crowd cheered. A groan went up from the Gryffindor end and James whacked his broom angrily. Amid all the turmoil, James suddenly heard a noise close by. It was quiet, barely audible at all. Like the fluttering of wings.

Wings? He turned his head, and even as Mary Crimple came speeding towards him, he saw the snitch floating just behind his shoulder. He swung out of the way quickly and was struck hard on the arm by the same bludger that had caught Royle a moment before. James heard a loud cracking noise and pain shot up into his shoulder. A murmur of shock and concern went through the Gryffindor seats.

The game continued, but the knock had hurt James's arm badly and he was finding it difficult to stay on his broom, let alone catch the quaffle.

Meanwhile, Donald had turned his broom around with lightning speed. The snitch was racing downwards, towards Mary's end, and Donald sped after it. He crawled forward along the broomstick, holding on with his legs and stretching both arms forward. Mary Crimple, coming from the opposite direction, was doing the same. The small-built Donald threw what weight he had forward, and even as the broom hovered no more than a few feet above the ground, he jumped off it and landed with a thud, the fluttering snitch caught between his fingers.

James heard the whistle blow and sighed with relief. His arm was hurting badly, and he immediately turned his broom around and towards the ground. Suddenly he froze. Mary Crimple was trying, too late, to pull out of her dive. Her broom's handle collided with the ground and snapped. She pulled it back upwards, but though it obeyed her command, it was jerking and gradually spinning out of control. A rumble of gasps and mutters went through the crowd. James looked around. All the other players were floating far above his head. He had only seconds in which to act. Wrapping his good arm around the front of his broom, James chased down towards Mary at top speed, lying completely flat on his broom. The Ravenclaw seeker was hanging on with both hands, but the jerking of her broom was almost unseating her.

Overhead, the other players had noticed what was happening and were heading towards them, but they were still too far away. James spurred his broom on and drew level with Mary's. It was acting like a rodeo horse, as though trying wantonly to throw her off. James tried to get closer, but nearly got knocked off his own broom. So instead, gripping his broom firmly with his uninjured right hand, he painfully held out his left.

"Mary!" he shouted. "Take my hand!"

"I can't!" she screamed. "If I let go I'll fall!"

"No, you won't. Just hold on to my arm. Come on!"

He leaned over as far as he dared. Trembling, Mary let go of her broom with one hand. It gave a violent jerk and she slipped off, screaming. James felt a hard tug on his already aching left arm and heard another snapping noise. Again, pain shot up through his shoulder, but his fingers clung desperately to Mary's wrist. She was dangling from his arm, which felt as though it were in a vice. James's face contorted with pain, but still he held on. He had to get down to the ground.

"Pull yourself up onto the broom," James said through gritted teeth. "I can't lift you - my arm ..."

Still shaking with fright and trying not to look down, Mary pulled herself up James's arm and swung her leg over the broom behind him. She put her arms around his middle. Steering with one hand, James turned them around and inclined the broom downwards.

They landed rather sooner than usual, the added weight causing the broom to descend faster. James rolled onto the ground and lay there. He opened his eyes, which had lost their focus with the strain, and could just make out figures moving their way. A moment later, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were looking down at him, and then he heard Remus and Sirius's voices as they pushed their way through the crowd.

"Excuse me."

"Mind out the way, can't you?"

The next minute they were both kneeling beside him, and behind them stood Peter, looking shell-shocked. Professor McGonagall was now also bending over him. Her hands examined his wounded arm.

"It seems to me you have dislocated your shoulder, as well as broken a bone, Mr. Potter," she said at last. "We had better get you to the hospital wing."

James nodded, and Sirius and Remus helped him to his feet. Dumbledore led the way, and the crowd parted. As he passed the other students, James heard a lot of awed whispering and gasping and girlish giggling.

Girls

Madam Pomfrey had set his shoulder back in order and mended the break, and all that now remained was a slight throbbing, a dull echo of the pain James had felt before. He was under orders to spend the night in the hospital wing, mainly in order to recover from the shock, and it was surprising how many people had been to visit in the short time he had been here. Sirius, Remus and Peter had hardly left his side, but their enjoyable company had been constantly interrupted.

First the Gryffindor team had come to congratulate him on his spectacular rescue. Then Mary Crimple had come - accompanied by a gang of extremely giggly Ravenclaw girls - to thank him for saving her. After that, the whole Ravenclaw team had appeared to express their thanks. These had been followed by several other groups of students, most of them girls, whom James was hardly aware of ever having seen before, all giggling and blushing and some even asking for his autograph. This was too much for Sirius, who burst out laughing when the last group of girls - a delegation of second-year Hufflepuffs, it seemed - had left.

"What's so funny?" asked James testily, feeling quite exhausted.

"You've got a fan club," Remus said, smiling.

"Oooh, James, do you think I could have your autograph," Sirius said, putting on a high squeaky voice.

"Shut up!" James complained. "If I'd known what would come of it, I'd have left Mary to fall off her broom - or let someone else catch her."

Sirius was shaking his head.

"Heroes don't let damsels in distress fall from broomsticks. You'd better watch it though, mate - she'll be expecting you to marry her next."

James glared at him. The last thing he wanted was for rumours about him and Mary to start spreading.

"That's enough now," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "You should get some sleep. Come on, out you go, boys."

And with that, she firmly led Sirius, Remus and Peter from the room. James waved to them, but he couldn't pretend he wasn't glad of a bit of peace and quiet. He closed his eyes, and drifted off at once into a disturbed sleep.

He was on his broomstick, flying over the Forbidden Forest at night. There was a full moon, and far below he could see his friends - dog, werewolf and rat - running across the grounds. James looked up at the moon, and wondered vaguely why it had a pair of fluttering wings. Then he realised it was the snitch, and he looked around for Donald. But there was no sign of him. James frowned. Where was the seeker? Oh well, there was nothing for it, he would have to catch the snitch himself. He raced towards it on his broom, but suddenly the broom refused to go any further.

And then another broom appeared, a broom that was jerking and swaying from side to side. A girl was sitting on it, clinging on for dear life. It must be Mary Crimple. James tried to urge his broom towards her, but it wouldn't move. Her broom was growing ever fiercer, she would be thrown off any minute now. James watched helplessly, and then the girl turned her head. It wasn't Mary at all. Under a black starless sky, James found himself looking into the greenest eyes he had ever seen. They were drawing him in, deeper, deeper. He felt a rising panic. Something was wrong, terribly, fatally wrong. He sensed a bottomless malice close by. There was a flash of bright, blinding green light and then he heard a woman's voice scream his name.

James opened his eyes with a start and listened, but all he could hear was the hooting of an owl somewhere in the forest. Through the window he could see a crescent moon, and stars twinkling brightly. He ran his hand across his forehead, and discovered that he was soaked in sweat. He lay back on his pillow, trying to calm his nerves. Then he thought he heard a sound. He pricked up his ears and held his breath. There it was again. A slow, hesitant footstep. He sat up and peered across the hospital wing, in the direction of the door, and his heart leapt. In the shadows, hidden from the light of the moon, stood a figure, completely still.

"Hello?" James called quietly, finding his voice. "Who's there?"

The figure moved suddenly, darting towards the door and disappearing. James jumped out of bed and followed, but by the time he looked out into the hallway, it was deserted but for Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's scrawny, mean-eyed cat.