Be All My Secrets Remembered

Chapter Fourteen: Exercise in Darkness

5 March 1977

"Prongs!" To say Peter sounded agitated would have been the understatement of the year. "Prongs, I need to talk to you."

"Is something the matter?" James frowned, looking up from his Charms textbook. "Where's Padfoot? He has my Charms notes."

"Prongs, really. I need to talk to you." Peter's eyes flickered around the room. It was a quarter past eleven on a Saturday evening, so there were quite a few people milling about. "Now."

Still frowning, James closed his book and followed Peter up to their dormitory. After Peter shut the door, he demanded somewhat testily, "What is it?"

"It's Padfoot. I think...he's not..." Peter shuddered, "Something's wrong."

"You'll have to be more specific than that, Wormtail."

He hesitated for several seconds before spilling out all in one breath, "He told Snape about the Whomping Willow."

"He...what?" James grabbed Peter by the shoulders. "Why? How? What the hell was he thinking?"

"I don't know, Prongs! But Snape's probably on his way there now. Padfoot says he didn't go last night because Agrippa kept him in the Potions dungeon for some reason...which means he'll be going there tonight. And..."

"...It's the full moon. Bloody sodding hell, what was he thinking?" James stepped back and took several deep breaths. "Can't panic. No panicking."

"What are we going to do?" Peter whispered.

"Stop him, of course," snapped James. "The question is how..." He broke off, cursing. "Damn you, Padfoot. Just...how could he be such an idiot?"

Peter just shook his head. "We don't have much time."

"You go on ahead, see if Snape's in the Great Hall or the Potions dungeon. Meet me in the courtyard in ten minutes." James didn't wait for Peter's answer, knelt beside the bed to find his Invisibility Cloak. He didn't know how much time had passed as he dug through his trunk, throwing clothing and books, uncaring of where they landed. The cloak was very much absent. "Padfoot, I'm going to kill you," he muttered. At least the map was still there, sitting on top of Sirius' trunk.

He careened down the stairs from the dormitory, hoping against hope that the Common Room would be empty by the time he reached it. But luck was very firmly not on his side. He had just pulled open the door to the hallway when Kate's agitated voice piped up from behind him.

"James, we need to talk."

"For Merlin's sake, Kate, not now," he snapped. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Oh no, you don't." She was next to him now, slamming the door so quickly that it barely missed his fingers. "We're talking and we're talking now."

"Kate, you don't understand. I need to go. It's important." Wasting time, wasting time, damn you Padfoot... "Please, I promise we'll talk tomorrow, whenever you want, for as long as you want."

"James Potter, if you leave this room, we are finished." She glared at him, arms crossed in front of her chest. "What could possibly be so important at..." she threw a quick glance at the clock, "a quarter till midnight?"

"You have to trust me, Kate," he protested, nerves jangling on edge. "Padfoot's gone and done something infernally stupid--"

"It's always your friends, James! Don't you understand? The point of a relationship is to be with someone. To matter to them more than their friends." She sighed. "You never turn them down for me."

"Kate, please can we talk about this some other time? Any other time. I don't care when. I'll ignore anyone you want me to, just please let me go."

"But that's the point, don't you see? James, you need to make a choice. It's either them or me. I can't take this any longer. You ignore me whenever they're around. I might as well be invisible for all you care!" She took a breath. "Even when I told you I loved you, all you did was change the subject to seeing Sirius and Remus at the Three Broomsticks."

"I didn't change the subject. I pointed it out."

"After I told you I loved you? What kind of idiotic timing is that?"

"Kate, I care. Really I do--" he broke off, reaching toward her. She stepped back. "Fine then! You're being bloody unreasonable."

"I'm not either. I'm asking no more of you than any girl would ask of her boyfriend. We've been together seven months, James," she insisted, her voice catching slightly. "Isn't that long enough to treat me as though I matter to you?"

"They've been my friends for six years. I think they trump you there." That was precisely the wrong thing to say. Tears welled up in Kate's eyes, and James cursed inwardly. "Kate, don't do this, please don't do this."

"So be it then," she sobbed. "I'm done with you, James Potter!"

Turning on her heel, she fled across the room and up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. James stared after her in dismay. "Oh hell." Then, forcing himself to action, he rushed into the hallway, muttering all the while, "Padfoot, I swear, I'm going to turn you into a throw rug..."

Peter was waiting for him at the door, just as he'd requested. "He's nowhere to be found, Prongs. You don't happen to have the map, do you?"

"The...well, I'll be damned. That's a far better idea, isn't it?" James pulled the parchment out of his pocket. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He lowered the map slightly so Peter could look as well. "Can you see him?"

"I can't...no, wait, there he is!" Peter pointed to the dot labelled 'Severus Snape', floating somewhere between the castle and the Whomping Willow. Hovering near the Willow was the dot marked 'Sirius Black'. "Let's go!"

Snape was nowhere to be seen by the time they crossed the grassy expanse between the courtyard and the Willow. "Padfoot!" James called out. "I know you're here. Where's Snivelly?"

A rustle of branches preceded Sirius appearing a few feet in front of them. The Invisibility Cloak was draped over one arm. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Bollocks. He's in the tunnel, isn't he?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Damn you, Padfoot, give me an answer! What the hell did you think you were doing?" James demanded, visibly astonished.

Sirius only pulled out his wand, pointing it directly at James. "You're not going in there, Prongs."

"Oh? And why not?" James continued to advance.

"I told you," his friend retorted coolly. "You aren't going in there."

"I'd love to see you stop me," hissed James, pulling out his own wand.

Before he could argue further, however, Peter's voice cut across them both. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Sirius froze where he stood, and toppled backwards. James spun round to find Peter trembling, mouth wide open.

"Oh hell...what did I...?"

"Don't worry," James said quickly. "He'll get over it. Can you open the tunnel?"

Peter nodded wordlessly. A few seconds later, James watched the small grey rat scurry up to the Whomping Willow and push in the knot that stilled the tree. He was aware of Sirius' furious gaze following him even as he pointed his wand at his prone friend before heading into the tunnel and murmured, "Finite Incantatem."

"You--"

"Don't you dare try to stop me, Padfoot. I mean it. What the hell were you thinking?"

Sirius smiled, albeit bitterly. "I should have thought you'd approve of getting rid of Snivelly."

"Who the hell cares about Snivelly? He's not the problem. I won't have you turn Moony into a murder weapon." He took a breath, trying to regain his scattered thoughts. "Don't you realise what will happen if Snivelly finds out about Moony? He'll tell the whole world."

"All the better reason to let him die," spat Sirius.

James just stared for a second or two, his mouth hanging open from shock. "You've gone completely mental, haven't you? You'd better have a brilliant explanation by the time I get back."

"Enjoy the wait."

Without responding further, James descended into the tunnel.

It was so much darker than he remembered it being, even from the last full moon. It smelled of dirt and moss and...he didn't really want to think of what that other odour might be.

"Lumos," he whispered. Light blossomed from the end of his wand, illuminating a few metres around. Peter-turned-Wormtail was at his feet, and James bent to pick him up before calling out, "Snape! Are you in here?"

No answer.

"Snape, it's Potter. You don't want to be here. Trust me. You need to get out!"

Somewhere ahead, he could hear movement, but still no answer. Maybe Moony hadn't awakened yet. Maybe...

There was a low growl from somewhere in the black. James froze, goosebumps prickling forth across his skin. "Moony?" he whispered.

Wormtail began to chatter excitedly, wriggling free of James' fingers. James, on instinct, murmured the familiar words. He felt his body changing form, arms lengthening, fingers shrinking and hardening into hooves. The welcome pain of bone cracking through his head as his antlers grew. And suddenly he could see, at least a little better than before.

And things seemed far simpler. As Prongs, the wolf knew him...at least as much as the wolf could know anyone.

Another growl. Prongs advanced slowly, sniffing the air. He could feel the pull of tiny claws as Wormtail climbed onto his back and up to his usual perch between the antlers, but shook his head. The rat scampered back down to the ground, hovering near the walls. And then he saw.

The wolf was standing in the middle of the tunnel, bent over a black lump. Prongs lowered his head and charged.

The impact was jarring, to say the very least. Wolf and stag tumbled over and Prongs lay winded for several seconds, unable to quite get to his feet. Angered and cheated of what might have otherwise been its prey, the wolf lashed out with needlepoint claws, raking them across the stag's side. Prongs managed to jerk away fast enough that they barely grazed his hide, pulling himself painfully to his feet.

A flash of pallor in the darkness as rat transformed back into human. Prongs could see Peter dragging the taller but slighter-built body back toward the entrance to the tunnel. If he could just draw the wolf back toward the Shack...

But the wolf had caught the scent of two humans, and turned toward the escapee and his burden. The smaller boy vanished into the darkness, leaving his unconscious companion lying near the wall. Prongs lunged forward, trying to bait the wolf back in his direction. Yellow eyes narrowed at him, the growl grew in volume, lowered in pitch. He caught the glitter of teeth, managed to retreat just beyond the reach of those claws.

Not so lucky the second time. The wolf's right paw caught him across one of his front legs, and he spun round, placing himself between the wolf and the prone student. The only disadvantage of this position was that he couldn't see what was going on behind him.

Rather than wait for the wolf to attack, Prongs charged again, felt the antlers catch in the wolf's shaggy fur. His neck strained painfully. Forcibly, he pulled back, ignoring the wolf's cry of pain as best he could, given their close proximity. This wasn't working. His leg throbbed fiercely and the wounds on his side stung every time he moved. But still, he poised himself for another attack, or at least for a spirited defence.

And then a black shape flew past him and he caught the familiar scent of dog. Padfoot threw himself at the wolf, swiping and snapping. This time, the wolf took the bait, chased the dog down the passage toward the Shrieking Shack.

It took several moments, and the tunnel was considerably darker when he was no longer seeing as Prongs, but James managed to calm himself enough to call out, "Wormtail, my glasses! I can't see a bloody thing."

There was no answer for a second or two, then the hissed, "Accio glasses!" followed by "Lumos!" He found himself facing Peter, who held out the somewhat battered pair of glasses to him.

"Cheers, mate. Now let's get him out of here before Moony and Padfoot decide to come back this way." Limping slightly from what he knew would be an unpleasant strain by morning, James made his way to where Snape still lay, apparently unconscious but thankfully still alive from the pulse at his wrist. James' clothing and wand, abandoned as usual during the Animagus transformation, lay in a pile against the wall. He pulled on his trousers; enough for decency, he surmised. His wand, he shoved into his back pocket.

Peter's clothing was, of course, outside, much to his chagrin. In the meantime, he snatched up James' shirt, long enough to serve as cover for the moment, since James was considerably taller than him. They each took one of Snape's arms and began to drag him back toward the entrance to the tunnel. From behind, the growls were growing louder, accompanied by the usual crashes and thuds from within the Shrieking Shack.

"Faster, Wormtail!" hissed James. "I'd prefer not to be supper, if it's all the same to you." It occurred to him in passing that if he left Snape with Peter, he could cast Colloportus on the door to the shack. But there wasn't time. And he knew better than to leave Padfoot in the house with an enraged werewolf and no escape route.

After what seemed like an eternity, they managed to drag him out into the night. Beyond the reach of the Whomping Willow, James collapsed onto the ground while Peter prodded the knot with a nearby branch and hurried back to find his clothing.

Snape still didn't move.

"You would be difficult about this, wouldn't you, Snivelly," James muttered wearily. "I save your life and you just lie there."

"Maybe...we really should get him to Madame Pomfrey, Prongs," ventured Peter as he struggled to button his shirt with trembling fingers. "He doesn't look too well."

"Yeah, and what'll he do then? He'll wake up and tell everyone what happened. Bloody, bloody Padfoot!"

"He saved our lives, Prongs. All of them. He really didn't have to." Peter's voice was shaking. "He could have let Moony have us all down there."

"He'd never have done that, Wormtail," James responded automatically, but his thoughts had wandered elsewhere. He'd never have thought Padfoot capable of trying to kill someone either, but apparently he hadn't been thinking hard enough. "Alright. We'll get him to the Hospital Wing, but I think we're going to need help."

"McGonagall?" Peter couldn't have sounded more reluctant if he tried. His fear of Professor McGonagall was practically legend.

James shook his head. "Dumbledore."

Peter's eyes widened. "Why does that sound like a horrible idea to me? He'll expel us!"

"For what? Saving Snivelly's life?" James stood up, and the world around him gave a very uncomfortable lurch. "I'd worry more about Padfoot."

"What about Moony?"

"Dumbledore already knows about him. If anyone would know it wasn't Moony's fault, it would be him." The more he thought about it, the better an idea it seemed. "And maybe he'd be able to get an answer out of Padfoot. Other than his being completely off his head. Which he is."

"Padfoot's always hated Snape, though..."

"Honestly, Wormtail, whose side are you on?" James shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We'll get him inside and argue this later." Pointing his wand at Snape, he cast Mobilicorpus. The horizontal form rose a few feet off the ground and James began to walk back toward the castle, directing it with his wand. He paused beside the tree where Sirius had been waiting, picked up the Invisibility Cloak, and draped it over Snape.

"Mobilicorpus. Now why didn't we think of that in the tunnel?" Peter wondered aloud. "It might have saved us a headache."

"Because we weren't thinking in the tunnel?" offered James with a tight smile. A glance at the clock as they entered informed him that it was well past midnight. They had been out for over an hour...it had seemed like so much longer.

Madame Pomfrey's reaction was predictably bad. James managed to stave off the onslaught of questions by offering up a bare-bones version of the story--Snape accidentally found the entrance to the Shrieking Shack--and promising to explain everything when Professor Dumbledore showed up. But while the redoubtable matron let him get away with postponing the interrogation, she insisted upon keeping both James and Peter in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the night along with Snape.

At a quarter past six in the morning, James opened his eyes to find the Headmaster standing at the foot of his bed.

"Professor Dumbledore!" James forced himself to sit up straight. Madame Pomfrey had taken care of most of the scratches, muttering to herself the entire time, and informed him at the end that they would heal, but leave scars. All healing aside, he was still damned sore.

Dumbledore looked at him for several seconds. James, pinioned by the direct blue gaze, could have sworn the Headmaster could see through him as much as see him. "What happened?" Dumbledore finally asked.

James told him everything, outside of the obviously illegal Animagus transformations, for which he substituted several reasonably creative hexes used to distract the werewolf. Through the entire recital, Dumbledore remained silent, his eyes fixed on James' face, stern and unrelenting. "I don't know why he did it, Professor," he finally said, cursing the quaver in his voice.

Dumbledore did not respond at first, his face a mask of disappointment. "Where is he?"

"I don't know. We've been here all night--" he gestured toward the next bed, where Peter had been sleeping, only to find it empty. "Oi! Where's Wormtail?"

"Mr Pettigrew left some time ago," explained Madame Pomfrey. "He didn't want to wake you."

"Professor, I know how it looks, but Padfoot didn't...I'm sure there's a reason. Probably not a good one, but I know there is one."

"I believe you, James. But I will have to speak to Sirius himself." He turned to Madame Pomfrey. "Poppy, I think Mr Potter may be dismissed now."

"What of Mr Lupin, Headmaster?"

"It might be best to keep him and Severus apart for the time being."

"Will he be alright, Professor?" asked James cautiously. "We just tried...I don't think we hurt him, but we were trying to get Snape out of there..."

"I will let you know, James, as soon as I do," the Headmaster promised. "Now, go on. There's nothing more to be done right now."

James contented himself with that, for the time being.