Of Werewolves and Wanderers

5.

Letters in the Dark

Harry shook his head rapidly back and forth to clear it. Everything had happened to fast. One minute he was standing in the great hall with Alicia, the next he was standing in what appeared to be the middle of the Forbidden Forest. He walked over to a fallen log to sit down, but as he started to sit, the log rolled away from under him. He righted himself quickly and moved to its new location to try again. This time it rolled right at him taking his feet out from under him and causing him to fall flat on his back. The log seemed to give a hollow sort of chuckle before rolling away into the dark trees.

Pushing himself up, Harry rubbed his back ruefully. For a few moments, he just sat and thought. The forest was a dangerous place, but with common sense he would be all right.

"Wouldn't it be nice if something large ate Malfoy, though," Harry thought out loud right as Malfoy walked into the clearing. He was much paler than usual and he was biting his lower lip. The expression on his face reminded Harry strongly of the time, four years ago, when he they had gone into the forest on a detention with Hagrid. Malfoy had run off screaming at the moment Harry had been in mortal danger.

"Funny, Potter. I was just thinking the same thing," Malfoy sneered.

"Well, I'm not sorry I said that, but there is no way I'm going to get into a fight with you here. To much magic or noise could attract something..." There was a loud creak between to trees and Harry paused and looked around. "Else," he finished.

"Fine," said Draco coldly. There was another loud creak from the opposite direction, and Draco's face screwed up in fear.

"Well, come on then, lets go," Harry said impatiently.

"Go? Wouldn't it be be-best to stay here?" Draco stammered.

"S'not very comfortable is it?" Harry replied, gesturing to the damp and rocky ground and the tightly packed trees, which were whispering in a brisk wind.

"Oh, fine," Draco said half-heartedly. He glanced again at the place where the castle should be, but saw only trees. He turned back and jogged to catch up with the retreating Harry. They followed the winding path through more trees. Both Harry and Draco jumped at any slight noise, but they didn't stop walking. Harry found himself wishing that he had packed a torch instead of a book, but enough moonlight filtered down through the tight branches to allow them to see a little ways in front of them, and to stop them from tripping. After what seemed like hours of picking their way through the tangled tree roots, but what could have been only a few minutes, the two boys emerged in a sheltered clearing, covered with dry leaves.

"This looks alright, eh Potter?" Draco asked sullenly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Looks fine."

Both boys moved to the center of the clearing and sat down with their backs to each other, hating the other just as much as always, but finding it impossible to leave the false safety the other's company gave.

Harry later wandered around the clearing a bit, but must have finally dozed off for at some point during the night, he had a very strange dream.

Ron and Hermione stood looking at Harry, who was walking out of the Forbidden Forest.

"Funny," Ron said in an echo-y voice. "I didn't think I ever see those two together."

"Oh Ron, you can be so simple sometimes," cried Hermione. "You can't say you didn't see it coming." She smiled and turned to Harry.

"I told you that you were a great wizard Harry."

Harry opened his mouth to respond when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, startled and looked up into the eyes of his father.

"He was my friend too, Harry. That was a great thing you did, a great thing." And there was his mother, crying but smiling through her tears, with Ron and Hermione looking on happily. All of a sudden, Draco came bursting out of the woods behind them yelling Harry's name.

"Harry!"

"Harry, wake up! Potter!" Harry woke with a start and for a moment tried to remember his dream. He knew it had had his parents in it, but that was all he could remember. Someone calling his name had woken him. He realized that at some point between waking and sleeping, he had moved almost to the edge of the woods and had lain down so that he was almost invisible in the dark foliage. He sat up and raised his hands to rub his eyes but realized he had never taken his glasses off.

"Harry Potter!" Draco's voice called again and this time it was joined by a chorus of clicking and snapping, and Harry realized what had woken him. Draco had fallen asleep in the center of the clearing and he had woken to find himself surrounded by a swarm of giant spiders.

"Aragog," Harry moaned and ducked behind the nearest tree careful not to make any noise. Harry's past near-death experience had been terrifying enough, and this time there was no Ford-Angelica to save them.

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When Arabella thought back on the last twenty-four hours, she was amazed at how little she remembered. She felt as if she had just stepped off of an out-of-control roller coaster and it was all she could do to keep from toppling over. As soon as she had heard the new of Sirius's capture, she had run to tell Remus, leaving a very confused Hagrid alone. The two of them had run into Hogsmeade where they apparated to London and burst into the Leaky Cauldron only to find Professor Dumbledore waiting for them. He explained that there was nothing they could do that evening and sent them up to the Inn above for the night.

Arabella couldn't sleep. For hours she had tossed and turned but finally gave up to get a drink of water. She paused by her large glass doors that looked out over Diagon Alley. The street was dim, lit only by the candle in the streetlights. The signs of the shops hung quite still in the cold night air, untroubled by any wind. A single light was on in the Gringotts bank of a night watchman but besides the streetlights and the watchman's lantern, there was no other light anywhere. No other lights, that was, except the light of the room of the inn next door. Arabella started, wondering who else would be up so late. She slowly pushed open the balcony doors and stepped out, pulling her nightgown tightly around herself in the sudden chill. She turned to look at the room with the light on, but even before she saw the man on the small plastic chair with his head in his hands, she knew who it was.

Remus Lupin looked over at her and gave a wry smile.

"You should get some sleep," he said dryly.

"And you," she replied.

He shook his head once.

"Well, if we're both going to sit up all night, would you like to come sit up over here?" Arabella asked gently.

Lupin nodded and slowly got up from his chair. "I'll be over in a bit."

Arabella hurried to pull on a pair of jeans and a Pride of Portree Quidditch T-shirt. She just finished getting dressed when there was a knock on her door. She hurried over to let Lupin in. Under closer inspection, Remus looked quite wan and much more tired that one might normally look after losing only one night's sleep. He walked over to the large couch and collapsed. He looked much smaller than usual and Arabella was put in mind of his appearance while in school the night after a full moon. Of course, at that time, she hadn't known that he was a werewolf. At that thought, she instinctively looked out the window to glance and the moon.

"Don't worry," Lupin said lightly. "Full moon's not for another fortnight."

They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments, then Remus burst out, "Four years after I graduated, I lost my three best friends in one night. A year ago, I found that one of those friends wasn't as lost as I might have thought." He paused, the continued even more intensely. "And I'll be damned if I lose him again." Remus shook with suppressed grief and anger. Arabella looked at him in sympathy and quite suddenly surprising even herself, she moved to sit down next to him on the couch, and put her arms around him. For minutes, they sat quietly, Arabella's mind was racing, but she was unable to put any of her thoughts in words. Finally, she turned to face Lupin and said, very quietly, "We were sixth years."

"I know," Lupin replied.

"Why did we stop going out? I don't remember," Arabella asked. She did remember. She remembered very well, his exact words, "You don't know what I am, I don't want anyone to get hurt." At the time she hadn't know whom he had wanted to protect. Even now, she still wasn't sure. She just wanted to hear the words from him again. They had always remained great friends, but they had never been able to completely forget the relationship that they had once had.

"You know why. It could never work. I'm a werewolf," he said gruffly, avoiding her eyes.

"That doesn't matter to me, Remus, you know that," She said a bit sadly.

He managed the closest thing to a smile that Arabella had seen from him all evening, and hugged her tightly. Then he stood up and kissed her on the top of the head.

"We really need to get some sleep," he said and held out his hand to help her up. She took it and their eyes lingered on the others for a moment, Arabella's tired and lacking in their usual brightness and Remus's a little confused.

"Good night. We'll do what we can in the morning," Remus said, and turned and walked out into the hall on the dark inn.

"Good night," Arabella replied and closed the door behind him.

Arabella changed back into her nightgown and crawled into bed.

"That doesn't matter to me," she whispered into the darkness. It was a long time before she was finally able to doze off.

In the room next door, Remus lay staring at the ceiling, wide-awake, his mind full of memories, and what the next day might bring.

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"Oh bloody hell," Harry whispered to himself gazing at the scene from behind his tree. Draco was stuck to the ground by a sticky secretion that the spiders had produced and it was slowly hardening into a see-through shell. Only Draco's head was still uncovered. Dozens of spiders swarmed though the clearing and Harry could make out the shadows of many more between the far trees. Knowing that there was no way he could take them on alone he thought desperately about how to get Draco and get out. Unbidden, his last meeting with Aragog, the flesh eating spider that Hagrid had raised while he was in school, came to mind and with it, came Aragog's words. "The thing that lives in the castle is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others..." and suddenly, Harry had an idea.

He glanced again at the scene in the clearing and knew he had better hurry. The clear resin had covered Draco's face and he had stopped struggling. Summoning up his courage, Harry burst into the center clearing and shouted at the spiders, throwing them, for a brief moment into confusion.

"Aragog!" Harry yelled at the top of his voice.

A sudden clicking and snapping erupted from the angry spiders as they recognized him and a huge wizened old spider emerged from the pack.

"You... you are the boy Hagrid sent," Aragog hissed dangerously.

"Uh, yeah, that's right," said Harry nervously as the spiders pushed in on all sides. He risked a glance at Draco and wished he hadn't. Draco's face looked distorted out of proportion when seen through the crude rubber and it had gone slightly blue.

"You escaped once, but that will not happen again," Aragog continued and at these words the horde of spiders formed a full tight circle around Harry and Draco.

"Wait! You know what lies in the school now, your mortal enemy!" Harry gasped, praying that no news had reached the spiders of the Basilisk's death over two years before.

The spiders hissed in fear and anger at the mention of the monster, but Aragog spoke again. "And why would it concern us?"

"I can call it here!" Harry shouted, panicking as he felt his feet become cemented to the ground by the same casing which held Draco. At once, the spiders backed away from him, but Aragog stepped forward.

"Prove it," he hissed and Harry was unable to tell if there was fear behind the old spider's anger or not. "Prove you have the snake's tongue."

Harry knew he had to hurry if he wanted to save Draco. For a brief moment, he wondered weather Professor McGonagall had any idea what was going on and weather help would show up if the situation became to dire, but he didn't want to wait to find out. Encouraged by their leader's incredulity, the spiders had moved forward again and Harry felt his knees harden in the ooze. He closed his eyes and pictured snakes. He tried to picture the Boa from the zoo that he had first spoken too, the garden snakes that made his aunt scream, every picture from a book or movie he had ever seen of a snake, and finally, the basilisk that he had defeated in his second year and he heard himself say out loud, "come here!"

Only instead of Parseltongue he spoke in English and Aragog cackled gleefully.

"You can not call the worm and we will have two meals tonight." Harry, knowing that he had failed tried to bend over to grab something, anything, to fight with only to find that he was stuck up to his waist. He turned to look again at Draco who, he thought, must be dead at this point from lack of air, and as that cold distorted face looked back at him, he had a sudden inspiration.

"I can call the basilisk," he yelled and his next words could barely be heard over the clicking and hissing of the spiders at the name of their enemy. "And I will prove it." With that, he yanked his wand from his sleeve and, picturing the largest snake he could imagine, he yelled, "Serpensortia!"

The night exploded and suddenly between Harry and Aragog was the largest snake he had ever seen. Twelve feet of poisonously green coils unwrapped themselves and Harry looked down at the spiders around him that were backing away from him again. He grinned at Aragog and then turned to the snake which was staring expectantly at him and shouted, "attack the spider!" and this time, he did not speak in English as a snake's hiss escaped him and the spiders fled, Harry's snake close behind.

Momentarily winded by the yelling and his victory, Harry closed his eyes and caught his breath. He looked down at the gunk that he had been trapped in for the first time all night and tried to think of the best way to get rid of it. He decided on fire and muttered a few words under his breath. Instantly, a jet of flame issued from his wand and he waved it in a slow circle around his sticky prison. Slowly, he felt the residue loosen up and he was able to pull himself out of the quagmire that was left.

Rushing towards Draco, without thinking about it, he brought his foot down right above Draco's face, breaking though the thin layer. Harry stopped his foot right before he touched Draco, and immediately wondered why; he had been longing to kick Malfoy's face in for as long as he had known him. Still, it seemed silly to kick him while he was down and Harry kicked and pried away the rest of the see-through sarcophagus.

To his great surprise, as well as his great relief, Malfoy was still breathing.

"Enervate!" Harry whispered and Malfoy stirred from his death-like position.

Before he even opened his eyes, Malfoy groaned out loud and said to no one in particular, "When my father hears about this, Dumbledore's going to wish he had never held a wand."

"Give it a rest, Malfoy," Harry said, coldly.

At that, Malfoy opened his eyes and stared up at Harry. Disliking the feeling of being below his enemy, he quickly stood up, but then clutched at his head.

"How'd you get rid of them?" Malfoy asked.

"Another trick from the Malfoy family," Harry said and Draco scowled. "All I can say is, you owe me one."

At this, Malfoy looked incredulously at Harry.

"A Malfoy never owes anything to anyone but himself," he said, as if reciting lines. He then seemed to realize what he had said and, to Harry's surprise, put his hand over his pocket in his robe. "Yet, I suppose you did do me a bit of a favor, Potter. Here." With that, he tossed the letter that Professor McGonagall had handed to him earlier to Harry. Harry looked at Malfoy and then at the letter at his feet.

"Go on, read it. It is more important to you that it is to me. Although I dunno if I am really doing you a favor," Malfoy drawled. At that Harry grabbed the letter and ripped it open. As he read the cramped handwriting of Lucius Malfoy, the color drained from his face.

For a moment he was silent, but then he turned on Draco.

"I am going to kill your father," he said bluntly.

For a moment Malfoy looked surprised, then gratified.

"Do you really think he had anything to do with all this? My father doesn't care about your convict godfather. In fact, I don't even know why he bothered to tell me."

Harry's heart and mind were racing. He knew he had to do something, had to leave the school at once to get to Sirius. But the only way that he could prove Sirius's innocence would be to produce Peter Pettigrew. At the thought of Peter, who was currently in the service of Voldemort, he felt his scar twinge. Suddenly, Harry had an impossible idea. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that his attachment to Voldemort through his scar could lead him to Voldemort. And wherever Voldemort lurked, he would find Peter.

"When's the trial?" Harry said madly, taking a step towards Malfoy. Malfoy leapt away from a Harry he had never seen, with a wild, desperate look in his eyes.

"Tomorrow afternoon, didn't you read the whole letter?" Malfoy asked. Glancing again at the letter, Harry shoved it roughly into his pocket and started running.

"Hey!" Malfoy shouted after him, and then started running as well, following Harry's shadows in the very first rays of the sun peaking over the horizon.

"I'm going to help my godfather!" Harry replied. Then, he stopped and turned to face Malfoy.

"You," Malfoy panted, "can't...leave me... here!"

"I have to," said Harry simply. And with that, he took off running again, away from the school, and to the village of Hogsmeade.

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It was a bleary eyed Arabella that met Lupin, Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall the next morning in the pub of the Leaky Cauldron for bubble and squeak and a tall glass of orange juice.

"Glad you could join us, my dear," said Professor Dumbledore gravely.

"So do we have any more of a plan formulated?" she asked, apprehensive of an answer. If there were still no plan, then there would be little hope for Sirius as his trial was later the next day, but if Dumbledore had some dangerous plan in mind that might endanger more of her friends...

"Bella, we need to find Peter," Lupin said quickly, as if seeing her train of thought.

"We planned on splitting up as soon as we finish breakfast. Dumbledore will go to Little Hangton," she paused at Arabella's confused glance around the table and continued. "The home of You-Know-Who's father and grandparents. I will go to Albania where You-Know-Who was last rumored to be seen before Potter's encounter with him."

"And you and I will comb both Diagon and Knockturn Alley for any sign, any rumor or hint of where Peter may be," Lupin finished. Arabella nodded.

"As you can clearly see, it is imperative that we find Pettigrew before Sirius's trial, otherwise, there will be no way to prove Sirius's innocence."

When they had all pushed their food around their plate for a few minutes more, the four adults stood up from the table and without any words, turned and walked off in their three separate directions.

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Lucius Malfoy lifted up the unfinished letter from his wife's desk and stared at it, hard. He dropped it in disgust and as he turned away, spoke three sharp words, and the entire desk burst into flames. The dry wood burned quickly, and in a few moments, there was nothing more in it's place than a pile of ashes. For years he had doubted the loyalty of his wife to the dark ways but he had never imagined her openly opposing and endangering his work. He was slightly gratified that the house elves feared him more than they cared for his wife for it was his servants who had alerted him to the confessional his wife had penned to Dumbledore. Still, it was a blow that he had come so close to being exposed and he could not let it happen again.

His other pressing family issue was the wavering loyalty of his son. If his damned wife hadn't been so insistent on spending time with him... However that would soon be a thing of the past and it was important that his son continue to hate those who he needed to fight.

Lucius thought hard for a moment and then shouted, "incendio" at the empty fire place. As flames shot up he pulled a pinch of red powder out of his pocket and threw it into the blaze.

"Nott!" Lucius shouted into the flames and the portly man's head appeared almost before he finished speaking.

"Yes, Lucius?" Nott asked complacently.

"I need you to do me a favor."

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