Werewolf Fever

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Werewolf Fever

CHAPTER TWO:

James

Heavy sheets of rain dropped down from the bloated cloud which circled around Hogwarts. The air was so thickly saturated that a simple breath took in more liquid then oxygen. Seeing the sun asphyxiated by rap-around fog and clouds sent acute depression down the spines of every young Hogwartian. They watched, through Herbology's steamy greenhouses, through Transfiguration's clouded windows, though Potion's . . . erm, brick walls. They watch as part of their world was flooded and washed away. Lunch proved to be its own little private horror on days such as these. Unless you didn't mind a slow death by drowning, no one dared go outside to stretch their legs or picnic out by the lake.

Sirius Black pressed his face into one of the Gryffindor Common Room windows. The rain began to pound harder against the frame; this was Mother Nature's own special way of flipping the bird. She was a vengeful bitch, Sirius decided as he took a step back from the window. He hated being closed in like this -- acute fits of claustrophobia hit him hard during rainy days. He could most certainly go outside. Sirius wasn't afraid of a little water -- he just had to be a bit cautious. Already, rumours of three Hufflepuffs that had gotten washed away during Care of Magical Creatures had reached Gryffindor Tower. Sirius doubted their truth heavily, but wasn't stupid enough to go outside to sniff out the truth. Corpses bloated with water weren't exactly something to sniff out after a lunch of ketchup and Shepard's pie.

With a melodramatic sigh, Sirius plopped down into a paisley love seat in front of the fireplace. He lazily let his glance drift across from him.

He cleared his throat. "You could try--"

"Not a chance, Black."

"There were only three of them. And they were Hufflepuffs -- no great loss."

"I'm not going outside to grab the broomsticks out of the rain."

Sirius let out a whimper. "But water wonks up wood, Phinny. The Quidditch shacks going to be washed out."

Phiona looked up from the long piece of parchment she was holding. One of her thin eyebrows began to drift up her forehead, almost disappearing underneath the jungle of frizzy hair. "Washed out?" she repeated.

"Out," Sirius confirmed, making a broad motion with his hands. "I reckon you and Jim will have to find mops to ride come next game."

They shared look of deep concern with each other, then slowly began to rise out of their seats. Mother Nature flexed her muscles a bit more, however, and set off a thunder and lightening show that would make Zeus wet himself.

Slowly, Sirius and Phiona sat back down.

"I don't think so."

"Spot on."

"Maybe Jim . . ."

"Sounds good to me."

Silence sounded. Thunder rocked the heavens.

"You could--"

"You're lucky I don't have anymore marmalade, Black." Phiona unfolded the parchment she was looking through. "Because I could get very creative with breakfast spreads when properly provoked."

"So I've heard." Sirius scratched the back of his head. "What are you going through anyways, Phin? Can't be homework."

"Far from it." Phiona slipped down to the floor spread out the parchment on the floor. It was a map, old and yellowed with age. Tiny pictures of dragons roamed the continents. "Dragon Sanctuaries of the world. Here's," she pointed out a tiny star in Northern Ireland, "my family's."

Sirius's blue gaze rounded the map. "What's it for?" he asked.

"I'm looking through most of the bigger ones," Phiona explained. "I'm hoping I can pick up an apprenticeship after this year."

Sirius had finished scanning the weathered map. Most of the sanctuaries appeared to be a bit out of range. A majority weren't even on the European continent. "You could always go work for your father," he picked up quickly.

"He'd love it if I would," Phiona shrugged, folding the map up. "But I want out, Sirius. Go off someplace . . . wild. Asia, Africa, South America -- I want to get away."

Sirius sank down in his seat instead of replying. He never knew that Phiona felt this way -- leaving her country, her family, her friends behind for some fire-breathing lizards. Leaving Sirius behind . . . the thought spun around his mind -- after everything they've been through, after building such a strong friendship, Phiona Love would still pack her bags and part ways.

Sirius felt his stomach twist. He had feelings for the witch, there was little doubt about that -- but what good would those feelings be if she moved half way across the world?

"Crazy," Sirius muttered to himself. "This is bloody nuts."

"Brazil or hazel?"

Sirius blinked, realizing that he was staring intensely at Phiona. "What?"

"If it's nuts," Phiona explained, "I don't recognize the variety."

"So, status quo anti-bellum for you, mates? Or is it just that Phiona can't scrounge together anymore marmalade?"

Remus and Peter appeared in the common room, throwing down their packs and lesson supplies onto the carpet in front of the fireplace. Remus jumped into a chair with a bit more vigour then could have been possible for him this morning. The colour had finally returned to his face. His eyes were no longer red and bloodshot, but back to their normal piercing grey.

Sirius squinted at his friend cautiously. "Feeling . . . better Moony?"

"It's amazing." Remus leaned forward in his seat, a broad grin crossing his face. "I was climbing -- erm, crawling -- up the stairs to the hospital wing when it hit me. I feel great! It felt as though I never even had a flu in the first place."

"Sort of a wham, bam, thank you ma'am?" Phiona commented.

"It's all a bit wonky," Peter remarked. "Colds just don't disappear. It's not humanly possible."

"Moony doesn't really qualify for anything 'humanly', anyways," Sirius pointed out. "That bad-arse werewolf immune system must have smacked the living piss out of that flu."

Remus rolled his eyes and decided not to bless Sirius with a retort. After many years dealing with Black, he realized that sometimes it was just simply easier not to.

"So then," his eyes grazed the map folded in Phiona's hands. "What're you doing, Phinny? Planning to go on a trip?"

"Nope. Just some, erm, Muggle Studies work," Phiona spouted out a bit too quickly as all evidence of the map was stuffed deep into her pockets. She gave a short, sideways glance at Sirius; apparently, her plans for the future were not to be unveiled. It stayed between her and Sirius only.

Remus and Peter, however, were not taking hold of the false bait.

"Since when do you do work?" Peter questioned slowly.

"I do plenty of work," Phiona retorted. "Today in Transfiguration, I made an armadillo out of a toaster."

There was silence between the boys at first. Sirius then decided to test the water and ask the question which was floating in front of him.

"It still had toast coming out of its back, didn't it?"

"I was hungry."

Sirius shrugged, exchanging looks with his fellow Marauders. "Makes sense if you're bloody craz--"

"Peter? Remus? I was -- Oh, Sirius. Thank God. I thought I would have had to punch the little wanker out myself."

Red hair swirling after her, Lily Evans tore across the common room. In one smooth movement, she grabbed Sirius's arm and began to pull him towards the portrait hole.

Sirius had to dig his heals into the floor so that Lily's pull couldn't affect him anymore. "Hold on a bit, Lil," he said. "Where's the fire?"

"It's James," Lily said, spitting out the name like venom. "He's -- Oh, he's such a --"

"A knob?" Phiona provided.

"Yes!" Lily's face was red with frustration.

"You mean, more so then usual?" Remus asked flatly.

"Yes!" He's . . . Oh, just come on!"

With Phiona and the three Marauders in tow, Lily bowled through halls and stairways. They arrived at the library with four out of five quite bemused over the whole situation. James Potter, said knob Phiona was referring to, was sitting amongst a set of tables in the back aisles. His rectangular glasses were tossed to one side, revealing two squinting brown eyes intensely studying a large children's picture book. Perhaps those eyes were slowly processing the fact that the text on his lap was, in fact, up-side down. Or maybe James Potter just simply enjoyed the story of Barty the Poodle much more when the pup was standing on its head.

"He looks fine to me," Sirius said slowly, rubbing the back of his head. "We reckoned Jim was never that strong of a reader, but we --"

"No," Lily interrupted. "He's been a stubborn, erm . . . A bloody--"

"Piker," Phiona supplied.

"A bloody piker," Lily finished flawlessly, "all through Herbology."

All five stared intensely at James. It took a few moments for the Gryffindor Seeker to realize he was being watched.

"Oh, it's you." James finally tore his attention away from the poodle and placed it on Lily. "Did'ya bring me biscuits and juice?"

"You can't bloody well order me around like that, James Potter!" Lily wailed, her face going red. "I'm not your mum! Or your servant!"

James rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm hungry," he wined. His tone hit a much higher note then usual; to be truthful, his voice now hit notes that shouldn't have been possible for a post-pubescent.

"See what I mean?" Lily said through gritted teeth to Sirius.

"Oy, she's right," Phiona murmured. "If you don't deck him, Black, I most certainly will."

Remus crouched down to James's side. "What the hell is wrong with you, James?" he hissed.

"Nothing," James sneered back in a taunting voice. "What's wrong with you?"

Sirius let out a gruff growl and grabbed James by the collar, pulling his friend out of his seat which, in turn, flung Barty onto the floor. "Stop pissing around, Potter," he growled. "You're acting like an ickle first year Slytherin."

"So," Phiona added, slowly cracking her line of knuckles on her right hand, "we might just bloody well have to treat you like one."

James's eyes went round with fear, swelling up with what seemed to be big juicy tears. "I need an adult!" He squealed at the top of his lungs. "I need an adult! I need an --"

Remus cupped a hand over his friend's over-exuberant mouth. "What happened to him?" he asked Lily.

"I have no idea," she answered as her long fingers delicately began to rub her temples. "He started to act like this during Herbology. Threw a tantrum over a shovel. I had to drag him out of there before Professor Vinion caught him."

Peter blinked, watching thick tears roll down James's cheeks. "He just . . . cracked?"

Lily snapped her fingers. "Just like that."

"Oh, this is bloody ridiculous," Sirius snapped. "Jim's just playing us all for fools. Obviously some sort of a stupid prank." He let James fall back into his chair. "You're pitiful," Sirius said to his friend. "You know that, Jim? Pitiful."

James curled up in his seat, knees held tightly against his chest. "Stop it, mister!" he squealed. "I don't even know you!"

"Don't know. . ." Sirius took a step backward. "What the hell happened to you, Jim?"

"Someone must have cast some sort of De-Aging Spell on him," Remus murmured, rubbing the back of his head.

"Slytherins," Phiona sneered, eyes narrowing with rage. "Those little bastards. They know they can never win the Quidditch Cup when Jim's in good health."

"They cast a spell on him behind our backs," Peter said. "And we have a game tomorrow."

"Oh, how could I have been so dense?" Lily crouched down to James's side, placing his hand in hers. "James? Jamesy? Do you remember any ugly looking blokes using their wand on you?"

James's lower lip trembled. He pulled away from Lily and used both hands to cover his eyes; if he couldn't see those scary strangers, his child mindset reassured him, then it was impossible that they could see him.

"Maybe," said Peter cautiously, "we should tell a Professor. Dumbledore could --"

"We don't know what this is, Pete," Phiona exclaimed. "So, I'm sure that conversation with Dumbledore wouldn't go so well. Oh, you know: 'Scuse me, Head Master, we reckon our mate's been transformed into a blithering idiot by a band of mystery Slytherins. Could be that or Jimmy may have just finally lost his bleeding mind. Either or, Professor, either or."

"And we're playing Slytherin tomorrow," Sirius groaned. "We need Jim, no matter what condition his sanity is in."

"Well then, what do we do?" Lily asked. "James can't do anything if he's like this."

"We'll skive off from our next class," Remus said. "Everyone except Lily, who has to tell Professor Gemar that James is sick up in the hospital wing. Make something up, Lil -- he got his eyebrows burnt off playing with Filibusters. Something believable like that. Sirius and I'll sort through some books to try and get to the bottom of this. Phinny, you can --"

"Kick the bastards that did this," Phiona growled, "until I kill their ability to procreate?"

"It's not quite what I had in mind." Remus placed a hand on Phiona's should. "Just get as much information as you can. Without causing great injury, please."

There was a fire burning beneath Phiona Love's eyes. No being wanted to be in front of that sort of entity. "Can't promise you anything."

"What do I do?" Peter asked Remus. His bashful eyes were locked on the highly dramatic adventures of Barty the Poodle. "I get to stay here with you and Sirius, right?"

" 'Fraid not, Pete." Remus nodded towards James, who was enthusiastically digging for nose oysters. "You've got something much more important to look after."

Peter quickly stepped backwards. "Oh no. No no no no." he stammered. "I can't . . . can't bloody well baby-sit James."

"Come off it, Peter," Lily said. "It won't be that bad."

"In fact, I'll switch you," volunteered Sirius. "I'd rather look after Prongs then stay in this musty old stink hole --"

James flicked something off of his finger. The bit of mucus arched beautifully for a landing on the end of Sirius's nose.

"-- so I can fucking murder him!"

"You better take this one Peter," Phiona commented as she pulled Sirius off of the attack. "For Jim's safety."

Peter swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He glanced at James, who stared back at him with wide eyes. Peter recognized that expression; he himself knew it well. James felt as though he was a stranger in a strange land -- no friendly faces to be found.

James Potter was scared.

"I'll do it," Peter said. "I'll stay with him."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The rain clouds grew bored of Hogwarts and, by time the sun had begun to fall into the horizon, the air rid its body of most impending precipitation.

Sirius and Remus let their eyes wander toward the passing windows as they made their way back from the library. The musty texts Remus thought he could bank on held no answer for them. Hours were spent perusing the aisles -- picking through every title that caught their attention; from 'The Book of Nasty Spells You Never Want Your Enemies To Get Hold Of' to 'Madam Lunin's Mood Swings and Pre-Menstrual Syndrome Cures' -- Some, such as the former, led to nothing but dead ends. Most, the latter for example, led to nothing but large bouts of Sirius Black's loud guffaws.

Needless to say, the boys made little ground on the path to curing James Potter. They had skipped Potions in vain and now had to think of a plausible excuse to feed their Professor, who most likely would never buy what they were selling. Their stomachs growled in angst, demanding food from the dinner they had missed. Sirius's mind began to drift from his cursed friend to the stash of chocolate frogs under his bed. His stomach groaned -- the thoughts only teased and taunted the empty organ.

"Oy, I'm starving . . ." Sirius wined. "Is it too late to hit up the kitchen elves before bed?"

"Yes. And don't bother to hit up the Slytherins. I already did. Repetitively."

The two Marauders rounded a corner, meeting up with the voice bubbling with resilience. Phiona Love stood her ground in front of the boys, sporting a slight discolouration underneath her right eye.

"Where'd you get that little souvenir, Phin?" Remus asked as if he didn't have a perfectly good idea where it had come from.

"Er . . ." Phiona smiled sheepishly, leaning against a suit of armour. "Would you believe I ran into a granite column out in the courtyard?"

"Yes." Sirius played along. "But I'm the gullible Marauder."

"And that, my friend," Phiona slung an arm around Sirius, "is why you're my favourite."

"What happened?" Remus pressed.

Phiona gave a little snort. "Lupin, on the other hand, is quickly gaining the spot of my least favourite."

"Phiona?"

"I got into a bit of a disagreement."

"A bit?"

"With twenty or so --"

"Twenty."

"--Twenty or so Slytherins," Phiona continued on. "But that's not the point."

Remus gave a little sigh. "Then what is the point?"

"The point is I only hit half of them with a diarrhoea hex," the frizzy-haired witch finished. "The other half may only get violently ill now and again, but still -- It's not up to my usual standard . . ."

"Did you find anything out about James?" Remus pressed.

Phiona blinked. "James who?"

Sirius let out a slight chuckle in respect to his fellow trouble-maker while the other Marauder pressed his forehead into the local suit of armour. Sometimes, he thought, dealing with Phiona held more hazards then rewards. Which led to the usual question: why the hell did he continue to deal with her at all?

"Honey, you know me. I couldn't pass up the golden opportunity which lay before me." Phiona grinned wickedly, her wild eyes flashing. "Besides, I truly believe the world is a better place when Severus Snape has the runs."

Ah, Remus thought, that's why.

"Ha!" Sirius laughed. "You've completed one of my many fantasies, Phiona. Well, on a list it would be above eating a pan of my auntie's brownies and way below a five bird orgy. . ."

"And that topped my list of thing I never want to know." Phiona shook her frizzy head and placed a hand on Remus's shoulder. "Seriously though, Moony, I didn't get anything out of the Slytherins. They squealed a lot, but I don't think any of it had to do Jim."

"That's fine, Phin." Remus ran a hand through his hair. "We're on our way to see James, anyways. The library search didn't go well either."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing at all," Sirius said as they started to clear the marble staircase up to Gryffindor tower. "Though, Phinny, I picked up some tips from Madam Lunin that might help me with the birds."

Phiona and Remus exchanged glances with each other as they topped the last stair, arriving in front of the portrait of a chucky woman clan in pink silk and gold bangles. Remus whispered a short Latin phrase, which caused the painting to swing open. The Gryffindor common room lay before them through the portrait hole. Flames were dancing around oak logs in the giant brick fireplace, doing their part to dry the unfortunate souls who were caught out in the downpour hours before. Sirius, Remus, and Phiona made their way through the maze of tables and loveseats towards the stairs which led up to the boy's dormitory.

"Haven't been up here in a while," Phiona commented. "When was it last? Mid-April poker game, right?"

"How could you forget that one?" Sirius smirked. "You lost twenty sickles and got caught and thrown out of our dorm room."

"Wonky rule. Why is it that girls can't visit the other species' dormitory? Honestly, what do they think we're going to do up there?"

Remus and Sirius stopped mid-way up the stairs and turned around in order to shoot Phiona a suggestive 'You-Know-Perfectly-Well-What' glare. The frizzy-haired witch snorted.

"Well that. Of course there's that. But I've got morals, boys."

"You do?"

"Well . . . Yes. At least I think I do. God knows I've never used them before, but I do have them, thank you very--"

"Love! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

The three turned at the top of the stair, taking in the sight of Gryffindor Head Boy. Dantie Greene, though he was a seventh year and on top of his class, stood a head shorter then Sirius and Remus. When his ever-evident frown was paired with his thin, bony face, it seemed as though his head was being weighted down by the shear weight of his expression.

"Hello, Dantie." Phiona quickly let a false smile twist across her face. "We were, erm, just talking about you."

Greene rolled his eyes. "How many times do I have to drag you from the boys' dorm, Phiona, until you fully comprehend the meaning?"

"Roughly thirty-seven times." Phiona said. "But I could be wrong."

"No, that sounds about right for you." The Head Boy motioned towards the bottom of the stairs. "Let's make this number thirty-six, shall we? Away from the boys' dormitory, Phiona."

Breathing a short sigh of defeat, Phiona started her way down. "How about," she started, "you forget I was ever here and I treat you to a round at the Three Broomsticks?"

Greene lifted an eyebrow. "Bribery?"

"Oh no, wouldn't think of it." Phiona leaned into Greene, trying desperately to tap into her inner-powers of womanly persuasion. Unfortunately, most common bull frogs held better amorously suggestive techniques then Phiona Love.

"Yes you would." Greene pointed down into the common room. "Let's go, Love. Out."

They started into the room below as Sirius called out, "Phinny! Can I give you a helpful suggestion?"

Phiona and Dantie Greene stopped on the stair's floor rug. "Give it to me straight, Black."

"Seduction."

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't look good on you."

Phiona bit her lower lip. "Really?"

"Meh." Sirius shrugged. "Not so much."

Phiona cheerfully agreed, informed Sirius Black to go copulate vigorously with himself, and then preceded into the Gryffindor Common Room with Head Boy Dantie Greene.

"Was it worth it?" Remus asked his companion as they stepped into the boys' hallway.

"Was what worth it?"

"Was it worth getting yourself marked for murder by Phiona Love," Remus continued, "just to spit out a sarcastic comment?"

Sirius stopped in front of the door to their dormitory into order to give it some thought. "Yes . . . Yes, I believe it was."

Remus opened the door. "She's going to castrate you, you know."

"Yep. Still worth it."

"What took you two so long?!"

Peter jumped up from the chair he had been sitting in as he saw his fellow Marauders enter the room. He was holding an old pillow case to one of his arms, cradling it carefully against his chest. He seemed to be about as big of wreck as the state of the room: blankets and robes were strewn around with vengeance. A large purple puddle spread across the middle of the hard wood floor, giving the impression that someone either had yet to perfect their hand-eye coordination or had a nasty urinary tract infection. Crayon markings splattered over the walls, forming some sort of child-like abstract art around the dorm room.

"Yeah." Sirius surveyed the chaos. "Remind me never to let Peter baby-sit any of my future children."

"Jeez, Pete." Remus gave a little grimace. "What the hell happened?"

"James." Peter seemed as though he was about to faint from pure exhaustion. "He . . . He got a little high-strung after I gave him some chocolate . . . I tried to stop him, but he bit me!" He held out his arm which was wrapped carefully in the pillow case.

"Peter." Sirius rolled his eyes. "What did you expect? You gave Jim the child equivalent of Columbian crack-cocaine. I'm surprised he didn't try to fly out the window."

"James bit me!" Peter repeated, apparently not getting the reaction he had hoped for the first time. "It was bleeding! James's teeth broke skin when they clamped onto my bloody arm! He --"

"Settle down, Peter," Remus said, trying to prevent his friend from throwing himself into an aneurysm. "Where's James now?"

Peter bitterly nodded towards Sirius's ruffled bed. James was sleeping peacefully amongst a mound of blankets and pillows. Chocolate smeared around his mouth, evidence of the sugar-rush which had occurred just minutes before.

"If he didn't make such a cute ickle kiddie," Sirius said sarcastically, "I'd have to bloody well murder him for sleeping in my bed. Those stains aren't going to come out. Oy, my mum's going to kill--"

"At least he's asleep." Remus collapsed into his own bed. "I've had enough of little kids to last me a couple life times."

"You didn't have to look after him," Peter muttered, peeling a banana peel off of the wall. "My arm's killing me. I have a bloody migraine. And . . . Jeez, I don't even remember feeding Jim a banana. What the hell--"

"Aw, poor ickle baby," Sirius cooed, kicking off his shoes and started to unbuckle his robes. "Did you want kiss to make it feel all better, Peteykinns?"

Peter frowned, throwing the bit of fruit in the trash can, but said nothing in reply. James began to whimper in his sleep.

"Tomorrow, We'll figure this whole thing out." Remus yawned wide. "We'll get James back to his own self and everything with be back to normal."

Sirius snorted, slipping off his shirt. "We have a Quidditch game against Slytherin tomorrow. We better bloody well get things back to normal or we'll . . . Ha, normal . . . I say this, of course, as if things were actually normal to begin with." He grabbed a sheet and pillow off of the floor and started towards James's four-post bed. "Now then, if you'll all excuse me, I need my beauty sleep--"

"Um," Peter started meekly, pointing at the bed Sirius was about to claim as his own. "James threw-up in that one."

"Oh, that's beautiful," Sirius sneered as he tossed his blanket and pillow on the floor. "The house elves are just going to love you in the morning, Peteykinns."

~*************~