Predator-Prey Relationships

Casting the Dice

Remus, Peter, Sirius and James were comfortable. Fifth year came fairly easily to them, having had established themselves in prior terms. The days of September were passing quickly, and the moon was in an advanced state of adolescence, its increasing rotundity a whispered promise: Soon. It was Friday night, exactly eight days to go, a fact that was omnipresent in their minds. Sirius and James still had detentions

"Honestly, we should get Special Awards for Services to the School, not detentions," James remarked to Sirius one day.

"Yeah. You'd think they'd be well shut of that greasy lot," had been the growled response. James' detention time spent with Lestrange seemed to be passing largely without incident, which gave Remus cause for mild concern. He had seen firsthand that Rodolphus was not the forgiving sort, nor was he likely to be very frightened of James. Perhaps, though, there was simply too much work. After they had scrubbed the dungeons, they had been told to reorganize the Student Supply Cabinet, a Herculean Task if ever there was one, as students tended to use the Student Supply Cabinet, thus negating all the work they had put into it by the end of the day.

Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to be getting off rather easy.

"So what's Gam got you slaving away at, anyways?" Peter had asked once.

"Ah, not slaving, s'much. I just have to run a few messages for him, carry things about. Simple really. Hardest bit is mixing that cherry cologne he wears all the time. He's not so bad. Spends half the time just asking me stuff 'bout what its like, being a student here and all...he went to Beauxbatons, y'know."

"Really?" Remus had said, arching a thick eyebrow. "He doesn't have a French accent."

"Yeah, I noticed that too...funny bloke, him. Quiet, though," And they had said no more on the subject.

James and Sirius were almost perpetually in some kind of trouble, so Remus and Peter were quite used to finding methods of entertaining themselves in their absence. Lately they had taken to wandering the hallways and the lawn, talking about any number of things. That particular night found them walking along the lake under the Invisibility Cloak, conversing happily about the day's events.

"So then she gives him that look, you know that scary one?" Peter was saying, voice conveying his perpetual excitement. (They were talking about Professor Sanguire's class)

"Yeah...I know the one...it's very predatory. Always makes me think of a snake..." Remus replied, slow and calm. His mind was elsewhere; he was looking up at the waxing moon. Soon. Next week. I'll run again. Really get to run, smell the world, hear the life! He grimaced. He should look forward to turning into an uncontrollable monster? Ah, but I'm not uncontrollable, am I? Not with James and Sirius...Padfoot and Prongs. Even in my true form-that thought jolted him. True form? Since when was his lupine state his 'true form'? Maybe it's the moon. He thought with a sigh.

"What is it, Remus?" Peter squeaked up at him, genuinely curious. Remus smiled. It was comforting in the extreme to hear concern from someone. Before he'd come to Hogwarts no one, save his parents, had worried about him, oh, no, they were much too busy worrying about what he might do to them. But then Dumbledore had made an exception, and Remus had found his place in a quartet of such awesome force that none but the most cynical questioned their connection. For a little while, he had feared that they would hate him, see him as a monster. He almost chuckled, thinking about that now. It had been, as he might have said, faced with a Boggart, 'Riddikulus'.

"Nothing really, Peter. Just thinking. That's all."

"Are you sure? You look...well, worried, Remus."

Again, that honest concern was present in the smaller boy's voice.

"Mm, I'm sure. I'm being silly, really. Just thinking about next weekend."

"Silly because James and Sirius have already thought the whole thing out, back to front?" Peter inquired. He was joking, really, but there was a hint of real offense in his tone.

He'll get over it. Remus thought. Many people James interacted with went through a phase of jealousy. Too many people can't accept him for who he is, Remus thought. Hey, look who's talking. He pointed out to himself. He had never truly been jealous of James. He never saw anything to be jealous of. He had the utmost respect for his friend, but Remus simply had no desire to be a star athlete, or a leader, or popular. Those sorts of things were...well, James' concern. Not his. Though the two had been best friends since the first Train Ride to Hogwarts, in their five years of bunking together they had yet to discover more than three or four things they had in common.

"Heh heh, right, Peter. No point in us thinking about it. Just be waste of time."

Peter chuckled, and the two continued on in silence. Soon, however, the autumn night's cool air began to drop in temperature. Even under the cloak (which really wasn't great insulation) Remus could see that Peter was shivering.

"If you're getting cold, take the cloak back inside, I'll be along,"

"You don't have to go all selfless on me, Remus. You'll need to be invisible to get back in, and I can just transform...I'd get back in no problem," Peter's tone betrayed the honor he was feeling, presumably at having someone (particularly a friend of Sirius and James) think of him first.

Remus smiled. "That's ok, Peter, really. Take the cloak. I know you're cold. I'm not... It's a werewolf thing." He finished with a little shrug.
Peter looked a little impressed, though he was no stranger to Remus' inability to keep accurate track of the temperature.

"Well, thanks, Remus. If you say so...see ya soon?"

"Yeah. No problem, besides, if I let you transform to go back in, you might've run into McGonagal, out for a stroll...or a real cat..." Remus grinned, and waved to Peter as he ran off to the castle, though, obviously, the latter couldn't see him.

Remus continued walking through the chill night air. It smelled wonderful. The air was crisp, and there was a moist quality to it, the grounds were still full of life. A cool breeze brushed his earthy brown hair backwards. The sounds of the night came easily to him, some splashing in the lake, the hooting of owls out for the hunt, and something else...something...human. He strained his ears. The noise was coming from a set of rocks by the lake. It sounded like a boy humming...he moved quickly into position behind the rock, never making so much as the sound of wet grass beneath feet. In one swift leap, he was on top of the rock, on all fours.

"Aiden?"

The first year boy jumped. A bad move, as he almost fell in the lake. The sheepish first year turned to face Remus. "I didn't do it," was the boy's instantaneous reaction.

I like this kid. Remus thought. 'I didn't do it' was practically Sirius' slogan. Oh! Right! I'm a prefect! He's probably expecting detention for being out so late.

"I come in peace," Remus joked, smiling and holding his hands up. Aiden relaxed. "But I would like to ask what you're doing out here, if you don't mind."

"You promise you're not going to get me in trouble?" Aiden said. There was still a flavor of apprehension to his tone.

"I solemnly swear it," Remus replied, grinning. Of course, Aiden had no way of knowing the significance of that phrase, but it had the desired effect, as the younger boy was now at ease enough to resume looking out at the lake.

"I was thinking about some stuff...and also, I...well, I kinda wanted to see the Giant Squid."

Remus gave what he sincerely hoped came across as a warm chuckle.

"Don't worry. You certainly will soon enough...in fact; I'm a little surprised you haven't already. He's not as hard to catch a glimpse of, as you'd think. In fact, once he warms up to you, he's pretty friendly."

Aiden appeared to be in some kind of shock. Evidently, giant squids weren't high on his list of Things-that-warm-up-to-you.

"Really? Cool..." he let the 'oool' trail out, almost like a sigh of contentment.

Remus took this as an invitation to sit down. The rock wasn't damp, exactly, but it was very cold, and had a kind of earthy dew on it. Small waves brushed up against its base, and Remus thought he could hear a sort of singing echoing up from the deep waters.

"So how's life at Hogwarts, Aiden?" Remus asked in an amiable tone. Merlin's Beard, do I sound dull...'how's life at Hogwarts, Aiden'...honestly.

"Its amazing...I'd never lived around a lot of wizards before, you know...my family's from London...the streets aren't exactly brimming with our kind...its bloody fantastic to see this much...well, magic in one place," Aiden seemed to remember himself. "I'm sorry, I must sound like a complete baby." He said with a chuckle.

"Not at all, Aiden. I was rather amazed by it myself...but I'd look at Binns and think to myself 'hey, if dying here doesn't shake things up a bit, living here can't be overwhelming either'." He looked down at the first year, wearing a sort of half-smile. Aiden laughed. "What's his story, anyway? ...I mean, the man's never even mentioned the fact that he's...well, dead."

"Oh, I couldn't tell you for certain. Most people say he never really noticed he was dead...just got up from his chair one day to go teach, and left his body there...I say he must know though...he's got that habit of coming in through the blackboard...unless I'm very much mistaken, he didn't do that when he was alive...of course, he might've tried it, which would explain why he's a ghost."

Again, Aiden laughed. Good, Remus thought to himself if I can help these kids feel at home here, I've done my job. Being a prefect shouldn't be about handing out punishments, or running to tell a teacher on every little misdemeanor. They sat for a while. Fifth and First, looking out at the lake under the swelling moon.

Aiden broke the silence. "Well, I think I'm gonna head back...want to be up to get good seats at the game tomorrow, but before I go, can I ask you one last thing?"

Remus smiled, the short conversation had put him in a good mood. "Shoot,"

"Well, my friends and I were wondering...is there like an ultra-high level detention? I mean, like, where they do Dark Magic on you, or something? Its just we always hear McGonagal yelling about something called 'Black Detention'."

Remus stared for about a second.

Then he began to laugh. His ribs were aching, and he rolled backwards a little...stupid. He rolled right into the water. Aiden was looking a little confused. Why had that question caused the prefect to laugh so hard he fell in the lake? Remus, still laughing with all his energy, hauled himself back up to the cold rock.

"So then asks me if there's a kind of detention where they do dark magic on you...'cause they're always hearing McGonagal say 'Black, Detention!'" The other three laughed, James nearly falling out of his chair.

"Hey. I don't see your names being carved in any stones," Sirius retorted with a grin, though his eyes remained lightly shut. It was Saturday, and the four friends were lazing about in Gryffindor Tower. The sun was pushing through the windows in columns of comfortable warmth, and Sirius had turned his chair so that he could bask in the heat. The motes of dust that danced in the sunbeams had settled in his hair, graying it so that it resembled a used blackboard. The air outside was crisp and the sun shone crystalline, bright, clear, its warmth providing a thin but pleasant sheet, parenthetically telling them that the blanket of heat the summer's sun had woven was gone.

The foursome was jarred from their gentle torpor by a loud cheering from out on the grounds. For a few instants, they looked at each other, confused. Then two things happened at once. A look of horror appeared on James' face, and Sirius smacked James across the head.

"Merlin's beard, Quidditch!" were the bespectacled boy's only words before tearing out of the room.

Soon they were out in the stands, October's chill staking an early claim in the end of September. They had taken seats close to the box from where the commentary was run...the only ones left, as few people liked to sit next to the deafening noise. Remus particularly hated it, but there really wasn't anywhere else to sit. A seventh year girl took her place at the podium. She seemed to Remus to be having a great deal of difficulty standing still, hopping from foot to foot, and biting at a quill the whole time. The crowd roared, and, looking down through the bleachers, he, Peter and Sirius could see fourteen players mounting their brooms, seven in flowing crimson robes and the other seven in matching green ones. As if on cue the autumn wind began to stir, and the seventh year girl stopped fidgeting, though she still seemed apprehensive. Professor McGonagal, who was overseeing the commentary, stepped forward and pressed her wand to the girl's throat.

"Sonorous!" The girl took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"THE FIRST QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE YEAR...GRYFFINDOR VERSUS SLYTHERIN."

When she spoke there was an odd contrast in her voice. Though it reverberated around the stadium, her words were methodical, unspirited. Must be nerves...I've seen her before...haven't got a clue who she is, though...she's in my house, I really should know this...

"Oy, Padfoot," Remus whispered to his friend. "What's that girl's name?"

"You finally think someone's hot?" Sirius answered in tones of great surprise.

"No, wow, you're dim...I mean the girl commentating"

"Oh...I dunno..."

"FOR GRYFFINDOR," the still nameless seventh year boomed "I GIVE YOU BAGMAN, POTTER, BARRON, LONGBOTTOM, MCFULTON, JORKINS AND ...ADIELL!" enough cheering arose from the stands that it seemed to drown out the expected hissing from the Slytherin side.

"FOR SLYTHERIN," she began, once the cheers had subsided a little "MULCIBER, GUDGEON, LESTRANGE, BRODER, KING, CANTRY AND...BLACK!" Again, the cheering was deafening, though Remus thought he could hear the Gryffindor's booing through it. Popular as James was, Lestrange was quickly making a name for himself, and half the male population of the school would cheer for Bellatrix even if she were standing on a stage insulting each and every one of them...though Sirius stood up and gave a particularly loud shout of: "GET OFF THE FIELD, YOU FLY LIKE...AN OLD, WET ROCK!"

Remus looked at him incredulously "an 'old wet rock'?"

"Yeah...well...she does..." the longhaired boy responded in his best sheepish voice, which was quite gruff in effect.

Unfortunately for the Gryffindors, Sirius couldn't have been more wrong. As the teams began to play, Bellatrix flew up at a perfect right angle to a spot some ten feet above James' (who was sitting still on his broom, completely immobile next to the other chasers...they knew his eyes were moving, though) head, and effortlessly converted into a circling maneuver, scanning the field like a vulture.

"Oy, mates," a hushed voice came from their side. Remus turned, and saw Mundungus Fletcher standing there, ginger hair in its perpetual tangled mess, holding a sack that clinked when the wind buffeted it.

"yeh up fer placin' a few wagers?" he slipped the words out of the corner of his mouth, eyes fixed on the game...though Remus could still tell the Ravenclaw hustler was paying close attention to Professor McGonagal. The old shyster's as used to this game as we are...using all the senses, hearing, sight, smell, everything about him is alert, but you wouldn't know to look at him. Its all natural for him...this is his element...the way I flow through the night...the way my skin feels under the moon- He was cut off. He had reached an emotional climax...and there was something in the air...

Remus Lupin flung back his head and stared into the crisp September sky. His eyes were wide, the cool air lashing against them. His every muscle was taught.

As it turned out, this was lucky...it saved him a lot of potential pain when Sirius punched him in the stomach. "What in Merlin's name's wrong with you? Calm down before McGonagal notices that you've completely lost your mind."

Mundungus was staring at him too. "Look 'ere mate, I've got some...stuff yeh might find 'andy sometime...drop by Ravenclaw tower one o' these days...meantime, either o' yeh wanna put a couple o' sickles on the match?"

"Yeah...why not," growled Sirius. "I'll bet a galleon on James, to make every shot....you in on this, Remus?"

"I don't gamble. Sorry, 'Dung," Remus said, as primly as he could manage.

Mundungus looked at him with an expression of mingled surprise and irritation.

"But its not gambling, to put ten sickles on James." He finished, as a lopsided smile grew across his face.

"Shut it with the mush," Sirius growled, "I'm trying to watch the game...not easy to tell what's going on with this pathetic excuse for a commentary...you have to really work at it to make Quidditch sound dull, and that girl's been putting in overtime. She just told us Avery and Churvis 'are out for the season'...why the hell are they out for the season?! Honestly!" Indeed, the seventh year who was doing the running commentary for the match seemed to be extremely matter-of-fact...which wouldn't be so bad if they would add in details, instead of merely describing the state of the match...

"AND POTTER PASSES TO LONGBOTTOM, LONGBOTTOM IS MOVING DOWN THE FIELD-SAVED FROM THAT BLUDGER BY BAGMAN!" The save had come out of nowhere, Ludo Bagman, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, had hit the oncoming bludger so suddenly that Frank Longbottom, a fellow chaser of James', had dropped the quaffle. It fell, but Remus saw Mulciber go into a dive for it...he was positioned perfectly, there was no way he could miss, and if he kept momentum, he'd be at the Gryffindor hoops in no time.

He was nearly to the quaffle when something collided with him, knocking him completely off course.

James had sped in so quickly that he had seemed nothing but a red blur. McGonagal's whistle blared.

"PENALTY TO GRYFFINDOR, DELIBERATE ASSAULT ON THE SLYTHERIN CHASER!"

James' propensity for earning penalties would scarcely have endeared him to his teammates, had the other teams had anyone even remotely in his league. Mulciber was good, as were Crouch Jr. (A Hufflepuff chaser) and Vance (one of the best on Ravenclaw's team.) but none were comparable. Since he had joined the team in his second year, James had not once missed a shot, and students were still talking about the game he more or less carried when someone (they strongly suspected Severus, but no one had been able to prove it...despite many attempts, some more aggressive than others) had hexed the other two chasers, Frank and a now-graduated girl named Janet Roman, beyond the ability to play.

But if James had brought the Gryffindors success in his capacity as a chaser, it was being mirrored in Slytherin. Last year they had ended a decade long loosing streak, totally inexplicably. Well, that was the official story, or the truth as Sirius allowed it to be told.

The year before they had broken in a new seeker...Bellatrix Black. The first Black in Remus' memory to be a Quidditch star (to the complete horror of her parents, Sirius' aunt and uncle), she was certainly making up for lost ground...those sisters have everything covered, don't they...Narcissa, I certainly remember her. Remus mused All the boys who're above second year do...she had thrice the following Bellatrix does...and Andromeda...he smiled Best student here, I'd guess...all of that Black talent and she applies it to the pursuit of knowledge...she's gone from dwelling on the social fringes to being totally secure without changing a thing...Remus had never been one for crushes, but he had always held the middle Black sister in particular esteem. He would even go so far as to get territorial around her, defending her and tensing when others showed some interest...she had started dating a Hufflepuff chaser over the summer, much to her parent's chagrin, but Remus, who rather approved of Ted (it was sort of hard not to), hadn't felt odd at all...well, not about that...

His thoughts were, as always, interrupted by an action of the vampiric fourth year. Her ebony eyes seemed to have caught sight of the telltale gold, for she began to plummet.

"BLACK BEGINS A DIVE, SHE MUST SEE THE SNITCH...SHE'S REALLY PUSHING FOR IT...AND...BAGMAN SENDS A BLUDGER STRAIGHT AT HER." It was true. The bludger hit Bellatrix' side, knocking her in a circle. Ryan Adiell, one of the other two Gryffindor fifth-year boys, instantly dropped into a dive of his own, making a b-line for the spot where Bellatrix had been aiming.

There was a horrible sound, which Remus detected over even the crowd's roar. Adiell fell, totally limp, from his broom.

"PENALTY! LESTRANGE NEARLY KILLS ADIELL WITH A BLUDGER TO THE HEAD!"

"Did'jya catch that? Dirty, low-down, trick. He could've murdered Ryan," growled Sirius, awed by the violence.

"Yeah...dun think I've e'er seen somethin' like that 'ere a 'fore," came Mundungus' equally stunned reply.

James and Ludo were tearing up the field towards Rodolphus, shouting curses, James shaking his fist and Ludo his club, equally ominously.

"Prongs oughta hex him outta the sky...s'what I'd do," Sirius said, regaining some of his color.

"I think, perhaps, we've got a long evening ahead of us" was all Remus replied. James won't do anything like that. Not now...not here. The game matters too much to him...but he'll be wanting revenge tonight...and it's the one night I can't go near Hogwarts, no matter how satisfying it would be to let Snivellus get just a glimpse of my teeth...he found himself running his tongue over his canines, and shook his head a little. What's wrong with me? I'm actually tempted to agree...how...no, I couldn't...I will not betray Professor Dumbledore like that. We can go for Lestrange another time...I cannot be trusted tonight...none of us can. We would go too far...get caught in the passion of the hunt...our paws beating against the earth, the chill breeze coursing through our fur...the deer ahead, our jaws strong and ready...the deer would turn left. We would lunge, grab it's throat-The deer in Remus' fantasy suddenly took James' shape. No. We are not predators. Not in that sense. I cannot hunt Lestrange anymore than I can run my fangs over Snivellus' jugular. I may be a werewolf, but I cannot be as territorial as the genuine item...horrible of me...what on earth do I want? Remus-the human, I mean...

The whistle blew, ending the time-out that had occurred as a result of Ryan's need to be healed. The seeker rose back into the air, the very image of grim determination. It was not, Remus reflected, a look that appeared infrequently on his dorm-mate. Yes, he had seen the boy smile, on occasion, but it was always a tight, curt one that never quite reached his eyes. Though they had roomed together for five years, he never really felt that he knew too much about the grim teenager, save a few things he could not help but pick up...that the boy and his father had lived in Kent, that said father had died in Ryan's second year, that the Adiells were purebloods, that they had once applied to a society known as the Knights of the Walpurgis, the boy was determined, that was certain-woe to he who came in Ryan's way...but they had never really bonded.

"Never did understand it, not 'alf...Bagman really oughta pick a reserve-seeker...that boy takes everything in the face..." Mundungus remarked, not really expecting an answer.

"Look at Ryan...he'd hate having a reserve seeker...not that he'd say much, but still..." Remus retorted, though not dismissively, but with an earnest tone.

"AND CANTRY HAS THE QUAFFLE, PASSES TO BRODER. BRODER SWERVES RIGHT. PASSES TO MULCIBER-INTERCEPTION BY POTTER!"

James had caught the quaffle and was racing up the field towards the Slytherin goal posts, employing a zigzagging motion that had become his trademark over the years. He zoomed right to avoid Mulciber then swooped downwards, coming up abruptly right behind Gudgeon. Lestrange was beating a bludger at him with all the force he could muster, which was considerable. James swerved to avoid King, the keeper, who had flown out directly in front of him. He dived, but Cantry and Broder moved up towards him. They weren't chasing him, however. Just moving parallel to him. Lestrange was gaining...Remus knew James well enough to predict the look of dawning comprehension, and was proven correct by his friend's next action.

"POTTER PASSES TO LONGBOTTOM, NEARLY TAKES A HIT FROM THAT BLUDGER."

James had done more than 'nearly take a hit'. He had passed to free his hands up, swinging off his broom so they were all that held him to it as it zoomed straight up. Lestrange recovered from the surprise first, and looked around for the bludger, which had started to hound Bellatrix. He put on a burst of speed Remus wouldn't have expected him capable of and crashed, full on, into the bludger, the force of his body knocking it away from Bellatrix.

"LONGBOTTOM PASSES BACK TO POTTER. POTTER AIMS. GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

Cheers erupted from the stands. James, ever the showman, executed a three hundred and sixty degree loop at the goal-post level, and swooped towards Frank Longbottom, high-fiving the seventh-year chaser as they passed each other. Even from the stand Remus could see Bellatrix' expression of pure disgust.

"SLYTHERIN IN POSSESION. BRODER PASSES TO CANTRY, CANTRY MAKES HIS WAY DOWN THE FIELD-HIT BY THAT BLUDGER JUST AS LESTRANGE BEATS THE OTHER ONE AWAY FROM BRODER. KING CATCHES THE QUAFFLE, SHOOTS-MCFULTON SWERVES-SLYTHERINS SCORE!" Cheers, this time from the other end of the field, and just as loud. The seventh year girl seemed to be warming up to it a little, but Remus could definitely detect hesitation in her tones. She's being dull because she's nervous...she obviously doesn't want to put a foot out of the socially accepted line, but she's being too cautious...she's definitely got it in her to be verbally liberated, she's just holding back too much.

"LONGBOTTOM PASSES TO BARRON, MULCIBER IN PURSUIT. MUCLIBER GAINING ON HER. BARRON DUCKS UNDER AND TURNS. SHE'S MOVING DOWN THE FIELD...CANTRY AND BRODER DIVE TOWARDS HER-SHE SHOOTS-SAVE BY KING! SLYTHERIN IN POSESSION, CANTRY TAKING IT DOWN THE FIELD BLUDGER COMING AT HIM FROM BAGMAN, PASSES TO BRODER, INTERCEPTION BY BARRON! SHE'S TAKING IT BACK UP THE FIELD-BANKS HARD RIGHT AND PASSES TO POTTER. POTTER SCORES!"

Brilliant. They're working like a real team here...she knew Frank'd get tired by now, they don't even need to confer. Really nice...good pack-attitude. 'Course, Remus smiled, James runs with a different pack...

"BRODER HIT BY BAGMAN'S BLUDGER, LONGBOTTOM CATCHES QUAFFLE, PASSES TO BARRON, BARRON TAKES IT UP THE FIELD SPIRALING UPWARDS-"

Sandra was moving as if on a spiral staircase upwards, still holding the quaffle. Suddenly James bolted straight up the middle of the spiral, nearly hit Sandra, and went into a dive from above her head, aiming dead on at the rings.

"POTTER SEEMS TO HAVE LOST TOUCH WITH REALITY, ZOOMING TOWARDS THE GOALPOSTS-HE...SHOOTS?"

It was true, James, having acquired the quaffle from Sandra when it had looked like he was ramming into her, shot it past King. "GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

"SLYTHERIN IN POSESSION, CANTRY HAS THE QUAFFLE, BRODER AND MULCIBER FLANKING HIM, LESTRANGE AND GUDGEON ABOVE-THEY'RE MOVING DOWN THE FIELD-BLUDGER HITS MULCIBER! GUDGEON IN PURSUIT OF BLUDGER. THEY'RE ROUNDING OFF AT THE GOAL POSTS. CANTRY PASSES TO BRODER, BRODER PASSES BACK, CANTRY SHOOTS! DEFLECTED WITH A SAVE FROM MCFULTON!"

James was making small, anxious loops on his broom near the Slytherin goalposts now, as Sandra and Frank switched off possession while moving down the field. Lestrange, who had evidently understood what they were up to, was furiously beating a bludger towards James. He was neck-in-neck with Sandra, and suddenly the bludger swerved to the left, knocking into Frank's broom. Sandra dived for the fallen quaffle, but Mulciber had also been waiting, and he too was aiming for the falling red sphere. She turned her head, braided black hair whipping out behind her. James was no longer in sight. Remus thought he saw her pull up slightly from the dive that would bring her to collide with him, and then she went full-force into it again. She was clutching her broom with grim determination-she lowered her head slightly and then WHAM! The two chasers fell back, equally dazed.

"POTTER IN POSSESSION, SWOOPS TOWARDS THE GOAL POSTS, SHOOTS...GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

"We're still up... as long as Slytherin doesn't get the snitch in the next few plays, we can definitely win this one." Peter piped in.

"'Ave a gander at 'Dolph," Mundungus said in hushed tones.

"Who?"

"Its Lestrange's nickname. Short for Rodolphus, I'm pretty sure," Remus replied absently, he was scanning the field for the Slytherin Beater.

The bludgers seemed to have escaped control, and were rocketing in different directions, one towards Mulciber, who was in possession, and one towards Bellatrix, who rode high, ever searching for the snitch. Lestrange had registered both threats, but rather than responding to the seemingly more dangerous of the two, the one directed to his chaser, he was charging upwards towards his seeker. Then something even more interesting occurred. In her vigil for the snitch, she couldn't have missed the impending bludger, but she was ignoring it entirely.

Lestrange pulled a halt at her side just as the bludger arrived, and dealt it a blow Remus was certain would have crushed bone. Bellatrix, who, unless she had gone blind and deaf (And would therefore make a most ineffective seeker) could not possibly have failed to notice this, yet she did not cease in her pattern, though Lestrange shot her a glance as he swooped down to the level of game-play.

"BLUDGER ALMOST HITS MULCIBER, LAST-MINUTE SAVE FROM GUDGEON, BUT MULCIBER DROPS THE QUAFFLE. GRYFFINDOR IN POSSESSION, BARRON DUCKS A BLUDGER, PASSES TO LONGBOTTOM, LONGBOTTOM MOVING UP THE FIELD, PASSES TO POTTER. POTTER SHOOTS-KING STILL ON LONGBOTTOM, POTTER SCORES!"

"Mm, huge surprise. Really suspenseful bunch of chasers we have here...just never can tell who's going to score next," Remus intoned with a grin.

Sirius gave his short, hard laugh, but something told Remus it wasn't at his sarcasm, turning around, he had to chuckle himself. Mundungus was heckling Peter about putting a 'bit 'o gold' on the match. "C'mon, Wormtail, don't be a wimp." Sirius growled.

"Wormtail, its completely innocent," Remus put in "But Sirius, don't bother him about it if he doesn't want to-"

"Listen to Sirius 'ere, mate, nothing wrong wiv a bit o' gambling, and yer 'ouse is winning, 'undred and ten to ten...not exac'ly long odds"

Peter was saved the trouble of having to come up with a further defense by the interruption of Professor McGonagal's shrill voice.

"Mundungus Fletcher!" she said, warningly.

"Oy, sorry mates, gotta do a runner." And with that, the ginger-haired crook swung down two steps on the bleachers and disappeared into the crowd.

"Thought I was special, Minerva...now you tell me you've got it in for 'Dung too?" Sirius tried to sound hurt. The Gryffindor head gave him a reproachful look, but Remus definitely detected some grudging affection in her stern expression.

The cheer of the crowd interrupted the minor top box drama as James scored again. Remus rolled his eyes as his friend did a kind of triple aerial flip in celebration, but smiled. James was, well, James. Arrogant, sure, but a good, strong leader if ever there was one. One of Remus' most treasured memories was of their sorting day...not because he'd felt particularly happy or confidant or anything of the sort. Quite the contrary in fact, but it was in retrospect that the memory acquired its charm...the Sorting Hat had sat on Peter the longest, but it had certainly taken its time with Sirius. He and James had been much quicker, though Remus hardly considered himself brave or chivalrous. Security. A voice that sounded uncannily like James' pointed out. That's what it was. Internal security. It takes guts to be you, Moony.

"SLYTHERIN IN POSSESION, CANTRY HAS THE QUAFFLE, TURNS LEFT, ALMOST HIT BY THAT BLUDGER. LESTRANGE FLANKING BRODER. CANTRY PASSES TO BRODER, BRODER SHOOTS-INTERCEPTION NEXT TO THE GOALPOSTS BY BARRON! BARRON MOVING UP THE FIELD, BANKS RIGHT, PASSES TO LONGBOTTOM-LONGBOTTOM SHOOTS-GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" Lestrange was furious. Even from the bleachers Remus could hear his cursing, most of which was in another language that seemed to contain a lot of consonants and guttural sounds. Suddenly Bellatrix dove. She shot like a night-arrow towards a point in the air. Adiell forged forward, charging up the field towards the spot Bellatrix was aiming. It was obvious that he wouldn't get there in time, but still he strove for it, and Remus could picture the look of total determination on his face. The snitch must have moved, because Bellatrix pulled effortlessly from the dive into a rise, speeding towards a point near James. She was a green and black blur, and even over the roar of the crowd a high pitched, wild laugh like viola sonata could be heard.

And it was over. She pulled a halt, and held a hand high. In it struggled the Golden Snitch.

"FIRST MATCH OF THE SEASON, TO GRYFFINDOR, SLYTHERIN GETS THE SNITCH!"

"What in Merlin's name did she do that for?!" Peter exclaimed, totally lost.

"She knew they'd never beat James," growled Sirius

"Couldn't you see her? She was building up too much tension. She couldn't let Gryffindor get away with another achievement...she had to do something." Added Remus, still a little shaken by the seeker's performance. He looked around, expecting to see Bellatrix coming under fire from her teammates. Surprisingly, they were just sort of floating around. Rodolphus Lestrange had an expression of resigned defeat, and Shawn Mulciber was leaning dispiritedly on Davie Gudgeon's shoulder. The various spectators were beginning to move out of the stadium, and Remus' ears caught Professor McGonagal speaking to the girl who had commentated so dully. "Admirable sense of duty, of course, and I commend you on sticking to the facts, but perhaps you would not be ill advised to be a bit more...descriptive, in your comentation. Do not be afraid to read into the game a bit, and you'll be quite good, Miss-" Amazingly frustratingly, he was pushed out of range just as the girl's name was spoken, and missed it.

"Yeah, that wasn't simple, I can tell you," James said with a light laugh that reminded Remus a little of the wind. "Going up between her spiral...mind, she wasn't exactly loafing off, that was some pretty cool flying she did." The four friends were walking along the grounds after the Quidditch match, with no particular destination in mind.

"Mhm, definitely. You were awesome, as always-but I've got Charms Club. See you all back in the common room," Peter squealed, and ran off towards the castle, Sirius staring at him with an expression of complete disbelief.

"Alright," he growled. "Supposing I believe his memory's as bad as Jorkins', and he just realized that out of nowhere, What in Merlin's name would he sign up for Charms Club for?! I should be insulted. We're much more interesting than any Charms Club." He spoke the words 'charms club' with a sort of jovial sneer.

"Well, it is O.W.L. year, and it is Wormtail...every teacher in the school has a water bottle and running ball special for their favorite rat," James said in mock weariness.

"'Cept Cat-woman. Figures, I guess," Sirius laughed.

Remus cleared his throat, and began to respond: "You all know my views on that. It's ridiculous. I mean, c'mon, its one thing to try to do well, or even to do the work," here he shot a glance at Sirius, who tried to look innocent. "But its another to obsess over it like that...if he misses another night 'cause he's got to do work, I'll..." A deep growl escaped Moony's throat.

"Man, here comes the old 'Why Hard Working Students are Untrustworthy' rant. Number seventeen in the big book of Moony clichés," James said jokingly, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I mean, you, oh, well, yeah, I don't need to repeat myself then," Remus replied with a mollified grin.

The trio (which, on one particularly memorable occasion in their first year, had been dubbed the 'unholy trinity' by an exasperated professor) walked on for a bit in the cool fall breeze, merely enjoying each other's presence.

"You guys know Mrs. Pettigrew," James said, a little abruptly. "Can't really blame Wormtail for trying so hard with her for a mom..."

"Mm, yes you can. A parent tends to take only as much license as they're allowed...I just maintain the illusion of being good, and mine don't bug me too much," countered Remus.

"Not strictly rue," came Sirius' growl. "Look at my mom."

"He's def got a point there, mate...I remember the last time she booted us out..." James rubbed his temples as though re-experiencing a severe headache.

"Yeah. Lunatic woman. 'S my greatest accomplishment that I haven't murdered her in fifteen years, and that includes the whole being-able-to-turn-into-a-dog thing."

The wind picked up, blowing a leaf in Sirius' face, almost as though Mrs. Black could hear them. Now there's an awful thought...I've only met that woman once, but she's a complete terror. Worse than Bellatrix. Remus shivered a little at the memory of his friend's mother, her awful voice piercing his memory with its screams of rage...

"I'll be ecstatic when I can be shut of her. Haven't been able to face going home for the holidays since I got..." here his growling voice trailed off.

"Here," he finished, sort of vaguely. "Complete nightmare, summer break is. We've spent the last three at my foul aunt's manor, y'know, Andromeda's mom's place. Dunno why they drag me along...seeing as how I've disgraced the 'Noble House of Black'. " He spat these last words in a tone almost uncannily reminiscent of Lestrange.

"You're always welcome at my house, mate, you know that," James replied sympathetically...not an emotion he was wont to display around anyone but his three closest friends.

"Or mine," Moony added. It was one of the first things you got to know about Sirius...he hated his home. He had gotten on fine there, for most of his early life, well, this was Sirius, fine was not possible. But his misdemeanors had been mild, trivial things, and his parents had simply chalked them up to his wild nature.

Again, an easy silence fell across the three boys. The wind was crisp but gentle, and the sun was lowering ever so slightly in the sky. Though they had no real pattern to their motions, they were passing through the lawn in front of the school. Several groups were lazing around in the late afternoon light including one of first years Remus did not recognize, all of whom were clustered around a cloaked figure (of suspiciously similar height to Mundungus) in the shadow of the big maple tree and a group of girls walking briskly across the darkening grass. It was to this latter that James' and Sirius' attentions were directed. Lily Evans and Savannah Michaels appeared to be congratulating Sandra Barron on her performance in the match. Beatrice Barret, a Hufflepuff beater, and longtime friend of Lily's and Emmeline Vance, the Ravenclaw chaser, was also involved in the conversation.

"'Scuse me, mates, they're obviously in need of a first person perspective on the match," James pronounced (in a gently self mocking tone), running his hand through his hair as he set off towards the girls.

"Prongs, you moron, Sandra's already there. At least come up with a decent excuse, really, I'm disappointed in you," Remus teased.

"Forget him, I think you need to switch names...no one in the history of this school does more mooning than that boy," Sirius clucked, which brought the laughter that was always simmering amongst the foursome to its boiling point.

They watched as the girls, now more or less pursued by James, entered the castle.

"Funny thing, y'know? Never did pay them much attention before now," the taller boy said, in low, gently rumbling tones.

The chill breeze was picking up. It tasted wonderfully metallic against Remus' lips, and he raised his head a bit before responding.

"Stands to reason, really. Not only has James gone completely round the bend over Lily, but you've got a more personal, direct reason...Savannah," He sighed a bit "In retrospect, I suppose you've really just started manifesting that now...the actual spark of romantic interest must have been kindled last year, with all that business about the exploding doorknobs, which, of course, I won't bother to ask if you remember." He finished with a sympathetic chuckle.

There was a pause, and the two canine friends savored the fall afternoon.

"You're bloody longwinded." Sirius said, finally.

Remus laughed again, nodding in mirthful admission. "I can't blame you, you know. She's brilliant."

"Crafty would be the word I'd've chosen. Fearless too. I think she's a right schemer, like us, or even Dung...y'know Moony, s'funny. I never really knew why James acts like a ruddy moron around Lily...actually, I still don't," Sirius chuckled "But I think I get something...its not s'much like a constant hurt...y'know, not a..." here he trailed off, but merely because his vocabulary had failed him.

"An open wound? No, I would doubt it. I think I know what you mean, it'd be more like a sort of quick stab, or a jerk?"

"Yeah, Moony. You get the idea. Funny thing is, happens bloody irregularly. Like, sometimes its when she'll smile...I know that sounds corny. Laugh and you die. But it's true...in all honesty...Oy! I know what its like!"

Remus, though he had at no point tuned out of the conversation, looked up at Sirius, making eye contact. "Mm?"

"It's like watching a hawk hunting. Beautiful, and you're happy to see it, but at the same time it hurts 'cause its..." Again, the taller boy was at a loss for words. They continued on for a bit in silence, though the conversation still hung about them like vines, waiting to be tugged upon again. Remus pulled first.

"Unreachable. Unattainable, Detached from you." The conversation picked up as though no time had passed.

"Yeah. Dead right...funny thing is, its great feeling that way...y'know?" Sirius stopped abruptly, and looked a little surprised.

Remus chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know Padfoot, I know." The sun was almost ready to set, and it cast the lake into a glorious mix of cool silver and flowing fiery oranges. Sirius shook his long black hair. "Think we'd better get inside, mate, you've got an appointment with a tree."

The sun's slowly loosening grip had all but failed when Remus walked down into the passageway behind the Whomping Willow. Professor Dumbledore, who accompanied him, seemed unusually tense-a fact the brown haired boy was made very much aware of by his own gradually sharpening sense of smell, which, in the last hour, had far exceeded that of any mere human's. The tunnel itself was dark and smelled strongly of earth, which Remus found comforting in the extreme. It was an old ritual, walking through this tunnel, one he had initially feared, and now anticipated with fervor. A tingling sensation ran up his spine, and seemed to put a comfortable, solid weight in his heart. Soon. Soon I can run with them. Soon we will flow through the night, diving into its depths, coursing through its dark waters. But then, almost instantly, he felt as though the weight was pulling down, hard. Professor Dumbledore is right here! I wouldn't even be in this school if he hadn't trusted me. And its not like he's ever given me anything to stand against him with...he made me a prefect, me! A werewolf, prefect. Remus chuckled 'Course, the real reason he shouldn't have is 'cause of who my pack is...there's the trust. Making any friend of Sirius and James prefect, werewolf or no...In his mind he laughed, dark, true and deep. He was, and always had been, just as much a lover of mischief as they, but his style was much more deceptive. He was a crafter of schemes, A Dark Steward. Another ripple of excitement ran down his spine. He looked up at the tall, elderly wizard striding along next to him. Professor Dumbledore's distracted gaze and hasty step betrayed an ulterior focus. Something was definitely bothering the Headmaster. Weird. Never seen anything really bothering him...he usually knows everything...well, not everything Remus allowed himself a satisfied grin, as they entered the shack.

"Remus, I'm afraid I have some business to attend to at the castle. Madam Pomfrey was kind enough to set up a fine nest for you, which I assure you, we fully expect you to tear to shreds," He said, with a little of the old twinkle in his eyes.

Remus could not have felt guiltier. Here he was, congratulating himself on outwitting the man who went so far out of his way to provide a comforting, cozy atmosphere in a position where most others would have been looking for the nearest silversmith.

"Thanks, Professor Dumbledore," He managed, unsurprised, of course, at the Headmaster's kindliness, but still a little dry-mouthed from the effect.

"It's a bit cold in here, I think," Dumbledore said as he turned to go, and made a loop in the air with his wand. Instantly Remus felt like a blanket had been draped around his shoulders. The guilt didn't really lessen at that.

"Thanks," he said as the great wizard walked briskly back down the passageway.

He remained standing, watching the spot where Dumbledore had stood, for another minute. Then he shook his head a little, and stretched his whole body. Though his body was warm, he could taste the chill night air. He could feel its tingling, the moon's caress.

A spasm passed over him quite suddenly. He threw back his head. This was it.

He felt as though his skin was too tight and his bones too short.

He wanted desperately to stretch his soul. He fell to the floor, pushing his hands out in front of him as far as they would go. Still he felt cramped.

Then came the first stab, and cramping was the least of his worries. Pain shot down his spine, awful, grinding pain like biting into frozen ice cream filled his every bone. He clenched his teeth, and suddenly, with a horrible, uncomfortable sensation, his mouth and nose stretched out and became a muzzle. His teeth sharpened, and elongated. He felt as though someone had reached inside his legs and pulled the bones backwards, as the joints reversed. His hands clenched and became paws. A wolf's nails clicked into place at the tips of his fingers and toes. His ears grew out as his spine slide down into a tail. His eyes moved into a new position, and his peripheral vision was enhanced a hundredfold.

The transformation was complete. Remus Lupin stood squarely in the middle of the Shrieking Shack, tense, every muscle in his new, powerful, majestic body coiled.

Suddenly he knew he had to get out. Power. I have power. I am strong and fast, the night is dark and the forest trails deep. I must run, I must get out! He howled, a long, beautiful note, full of anticipation. He howled out to Padfoot, he howled out to James, He howled to Peter. Join me! We must run! My teeth are sharp, my legs strong. I am fluid power! LET ME OUT! He sprung at a scarred wall, ripping a new set of gashes with his powerful front legs.

I must run, let me run let me catch the moon itself! I must hunt. We will bring Snivellus down; my fangs will slide into his flesh. He will falter, and stumble. I will spring for his throat and lap his warm blood. DISGUSTING FOOL. We will bring him to his knees. The memory of Severus insulting James in the Slytherin common room almost a month previously returned to Remus' predatory mind. His thoughts were not random. This was hatred, not hunger, that he felt.

HOW DARE HE ACCUSE JAMES OF ARROGANCE! SIRIUS, JAMES, WE WILL HUNT HIM DOWN. WE WILL SLIT HIS GREASY THROAT FOR THIS! Remus lept for a chair, sinking his teeth into its padding. This gave him a moment of calm. He had loosed some of the tension that had twisted through his every muscle.

In that moment's calm, his ears detected the familiar footfalls he had been waiting for.

The steady clipping of James' hooves, the almost silent click of Sirius' nails against wood, and the scurrying of Peter, who ran ahead of them through the passageway.

A small gray rat, its eyes perpetually clouded, ran into the room and perched apprehensively on a bit of torn wood from the wall. Remus, who had removed his jaws from the chair, wheeled to face Peter.

That was when Sirius lept into him.

In the next moment the two titanic canines were rolling about on the floor, snapping at each other in total, simplistic happiness. Moony pushed Padfoot backwards and lept for him, but was caught in the side by Prongs' antlers. The stately buck had arrived, and the pack of mixed predators and prey was complete. Together, the four animagi walked to the door, and Wormtail scampered along Prongs' back to reach the bolt, which was solid silver. He gave a little squeak of surprise when the door opened on contact-the charm that usually sealed it appeared to have been forgotten-and fell forwards, landing on the ground. Looking about as indignant as a rat could, he lept onto Moony's back, and the quartet walked out into the night.

The cool air rushed through Moony's fur, and he took a deep, long breath. The world was open to him. He was picking up on thousands of scents, seeing with his ears, nose and eyes. A wealth of information came to him. Grasshoppers, knarls, an owl, two cats, both male...three men have been here today. Two were frightened and none stayed long. Field mice. A raven killed an adder here yesterday. Windblown pinecones from the forbidden forest, Cherries, fresh but not from a tree, three kids ran past here...

In another instant he pushed off, diving into the cool, beautiful night. His powerful forelegs gave him the push he needed, and he tore forward. Padfoot, in the same motion, moved alongside him, and Prongs soon caught up, cantering just in front of them, Wormtail still holding fast to Moony's fur. Soon, however, they entered the village proper, and had to slow down so as not to be seen.

Walking through the silent streets, they made a right turn at a particularly pretentious looking Victorian house with a broken lawn flamingo, and a left at a tree Prongs had once climbed (while in human form) under the Invisibility Cloak so he could throw dung bombs at Andromeda Black, whom he hadn't gotten on with very well at the time, though he did now, as they all did. At the top of a small incline they came to a warehouse that smelled very strongly of alcohol, and butterbeer, a favorite drink of Padfoot's.

Prongs pawed the ground once, and Moony knew to step forward. Little seemed so natural. He pawed twice, and Wormtail lept from Moony's back onto Prongs'. Scampering to the bolt on the poorly made warehouse door, he worked a bit of wire in, holding it in his paws, and the lock clicked open. Padfoot sprung in, landed in the middle of the floor, sniffed the air once and began to push a keg that Moony could tell contained butterbeer out towards them. Prongs nodded his massive head, and Moony pushed the door shut as Wormtail bolted it again. Quietly and slowly the four made their way back towards the Shrieking Shack, identical glows of satisfaction warming their variously sized hearts. They had a keg to stash, but the night cold had hardly set in, and the moon hung above them, promising adventure to all who dared seek it.