Werewolf Fever

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Werewolf Fever

CHAPTER FIVE:

Phiona

"For the last time, Black, I don't know where Phin is."

"Playing dumb may get the birds steamy, but it's doing absolutely nothing for me."

"You think I'm bloody well lying to you?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, I do."

Devon Turner's handsome face twitched with acute frustration. "Jim, do you mind calling off your goon?" he said. His green eyes never left Sirius Black for a minute. There was a mutual distrust which flowed between the two Gryffindors, but neither wanted to bring it out. If they truly ever brought everything out into the open, it would only result into two trips to the hospital wing. "Black, if Phin doesn't want to be found, then she won't be found. Especially by you."

Sirius's hands squeezed tightly into fists. "I told you," he said. "It was all an accident."

"Right then, what happened? Phinny had something stuck in her teeth and you offered to get it out for her - without using your hands?"

Letting out a little groan of anger, Sirius blew off the conversation and walked to the end of the hall. He took a punch at an ancient suit of armour, wishing very much that Turner was inside.

Sirius and James had been rummaging around the castle for signs of Phiona for the past half hour, but were always coming up horribly empty. Conversations, like the present one with Devon Turner, always seemed to arrive at Sirius's public display of unwanted affection. Needless to say, James hoped that Remus and Peter were having better luck finding a cure because the hunt for Phiona Love was going nowhere fast.

"Dev, please." James rubbed the side of his face with acute frustration. "Brinker and El told us to come ask you. So here we are. Asking you."

Devon Turner shot a sharp look at Sirius, who was continuing to grumble in the background. If James hadn't been captain of the Quidditch team, Turner would have never considered arguing this long with a couple of sixth years. But, the fact was, he was James Bloody Potter. The best Seeker Hogwarts had seen in centuries. This Devon Turner wholly respected. "I already told you everything I know," he said. "Brinker and I tried to get her back to Gryffindor Tower - she absolutely cracked after Sirius stuck his tongue half-way down her throat--" There was a echoing 'bang' as Sirius took another shot at the armour. "--but she bolted out of the Great Hall before we could talk to her. Haven't seen her since."

"What about class?" Sirius asked from down the hall. "Phin has Charms with you, doesn't she?"

"She wasn't there today." Turner's voice became a bit irked. "She skived off. It's odd, though. Phin told me yesterday that she'd help shrink all of Flitwick's stuff so he'd thick he was getting taller. It's not like Phinny to miss a prank like that."

"I reckon Phinny's not quite herself today," James murmured darkly. "Dev, if you see her, come -"

"Seek you, mon capitane." Turner swept down in an overenthusiastic bow. "Don't worry. I'm as worried about her as you are."

James mumbled a little 'thank you' and then turned down the hall to collect Sirius. When Devon Turner was out of ear-shot, Sirius's face twisted into a horrifying scowl - it was the face of an ex-murderer who was pondering whether or not to get back on the wagon. "One of these days, Jim, Turner's going to finally make me crack and I'm -"

"I know. I know." James rolled his eyes, having gone through this routine before. It was no secret that Devon Turner wasn't Sirius's favourite housemate. In fact, if Turner didn't have that extra fifty pounds of muscle advantage, Sirius would have certainly made his dislike for the seventh day known to all. "One of these days, Turner's going to finally make you crack and you're going to pull out his small intestine and use it as a scarf."

"I believe it was large intestine."

"Right. Large."

"An ascot."

"What?"

"Not a scarf. It was an ascot."

"Spot on," James continued as they rounded the stairs to one of Hogwarts many dungeons. "But before any ascots of any kinds are made, we've got to find Phin."

"Changed my mind."

"What?"

"Babushka," Sirius muttered under his breath. "Out of Turner's liver. You know, for my Mum."

"I'm sure she'd love it. Nothing says, 'You're The Best Mummy Ever' like a kerchief made out of human organs."

Instead of travelling straight towards the main classrooms, the two boys turned down the staircase towards the old Potions dungeons. Most of the rooms were completely abandoned due to an incident several years back which consisted of a foolish Ravenclaw second year and a bowl of nitro-glyceric acid. To say the least, many unfortunate professors had to move their classrooms for fear of spontaneous combustions. The only students who now ventured down into the old dungeons were those who had a death wish which involved blowing up into many different pieces. Of course, the Marauders made constant trips down there, just for the pure joy of knowing that no one would dare chase after them.

"You know, the more I think about it, the more I have to agree with Devon," James said as he peered into one of the many abandoned classrooms. "If Phin doesn't want to be found, then she won't be found. Devon's got it spot on."

"Babushka, Jim."

"Right right," James sighed. "Babushka."

Sirius rolled his eyes irritably. "I can't believe you're listening to that thick-headed, half-arse Chaser instead of your best mate. We'll find Phinny."

James arched an eyebrow. "And how long will it take, Pads?"

Sirius mused over the question for a while then answered articulately, "I give it a week or two. A month at most." He scowled as James snorted in suppressed laughter. "Well, what do you expect? A bloody sign from God? Someone's going to come bolting down the hall, screaming bloody Apocalypse at the top of their lungs?"

On some horribly ironic cue, echoes of a scream streamed down the empty halls. James and Sirius turned around quickly, catching sight of the deathly pale Dantie Greene stumbling down the hallway. He looked as though he had been through an ordeal - there were hex marks burnt across his face and down his ripped robes. When the Head Boy arrived by the two Marauders, he dropped down and clung to James's leg as if his life depended on it.

James grimaced, patting the upperclassman's head awkwardly. "Erm . . . Hallo, Dantie. Any troubles?"

"She tried to kill me!" Greene burst, his voice absolutely screeching. "I knew something was wrong with her . . . doing something dangerous . . . oh, and her eyes! She going to come and kill us all! Run! For the love of God, Run!"

"You were saying, Sirius?"

"Fuck off."

Before Greene had a chance to bolt off again in a fit of insanity, Sirius picked him up by the neck of his Head Boy robes. "Who's trying to kill you, Greene?" the Marauder pressed. "Who'd you see? Phiona Love? Did you see Phiona?"

Dantie Greene let out a little whimper of terror. The very name brought fear upon him. "Look, just - just let me go. I don't want to die. I've got my whole life in front of me. I don't want to--"

"No one's going to die," James pushed forward. "Dantie, this is important. Was Phiona Love the one you saw?"

"Yes!" Greene wailed, a foam-like spittle forming on the corners of his mouth. "Like I said before - bend down and kiss your arse good-bye, mates. She's ready to bring the whole bloody castle down!"

Shocked and almost appalled at the Head Boy's St. Mungo-like behaviour, Sirius un-wrenched his hands from Greene's robes. Realizing that he had been set free, Greene began the long marathon down the corridor towards freedom. James, however, made the escape attempt a short one by sticking his foot in between the seventh year and his exit. Dantie Greene was sent flying, landing with a terrible skid on the cobblestone ground. In dumbfounded wonder, he touched the side of his face then examined his tainted fingers which carried off his crimson blood. He stared at James above as the Marauder took out his wand and began twirling it between his thumb and forefinger.

"What . . . what the hell do you think you're doing?" the Head Boy demanded, his voice losing what authority it had left.

"Sorry, Greene," James apologized. "We can't have you buggering up the whole castle. Don't want Phiona hurt, you understand."

Sirius picked up his friend's lead quickly and also brandished his wand. "This is our problem, not Hogwarts'. James and I need to deal with it on our own - what ever it is. Sorry, mate." He pointed his wand directly in between Greene's eyes. "Obliviate."

Before Greene could open his mouth to take points from Gryffindor (or plead for his life, for that matter), the spell hit him. He was only able to utter a pitiful squeak as his pupils dilated violently. There was a small gurgling sound at the back of his throat, which was followed by a fit of rapid blinking.

"Erm . . . hello." Greene stared up at the two Marauders with unbelievably wide eyes. "Who are you blokes?"

"Ghosts of Christmas past," James said flatly as he pulled Greene to his feet. "You should bugger out of here quick, my friend."

"Should I?" Greene glanced around. "Now, where exactly am I?"

"Antarctica," Sirius replied as he began to shove Greene towards the staircase behind them. "I reckon you should go and check on the penguins."

Greene scratched the back of his head in total bemusement. "Penguins, eh?" he said as he continued to shuffle out of the dungeons. "Well then, I guess I should take a look at them."

Leaving Greene to exit on his own tainted ability, James and Sirius bolted off the way the Head Boy had come from. It was there they heard Phiona Love's voice ricocheting through the end of the corridor - riddled with a thick string of ancient Latin. A low green glow began to sift from one of the abandon classrooms on the far right. Without so much as an exchanging glance, the two Marauders moved into the doorway of the glowing classroom and slowly started inside.

The room had obviously been one of Hogwarts' biggest Potions classes at one point in time; stadium-like seats sprouted up towards the high ceiling, circling the perimeter. Gothic pillars held up hand-marked wall supports, which were scattered with carvings of wild flowers and winding vines. A large silver cauldron stood on a wooden tripod in the very centre of the room.

"Can't see her," Sirius squinted into the fog.

"How could that be, though?" James whispered. "She was here. We could hear her in--"

"WHAT MORTAL FOOL IS THIS?"

"Reckoned we found her, Jim," Sirius quipped as both Marauders stumbled away from the thick, demonic voice which echoed off the high ceiling. Seeing the figure first, Sirius grabbed James's shoulder tightly and directed his friend's head towards the centre of the room.

James's eyes shot open wide as soon as she came into his line of sight. Standing in the deep shadows, Phiona Love slowly brandished her wand.

Sirius opened his mouth to call to witch, but he was quickly silenced. Something hit both boys in the stomach, making the air within them rush out of their lungs, leaving them wheezing and gasping for a full breath.

Sirius dropped to his knees first, hands clinging to his throat. Each shallow breath felt heavy in his chest, as if it had more substance then air. There was came a 'thump' behind Sirius as James finally crumbled to the ground as well, choking and gasping.

Phiona Love was suffocating them to death.

"What ever is the matter?" the cold voice reverberated around the room. Sirius wrenched his head up, only to meet a pair of horribly dead eyes. No - no, they were not eyes. They were sickening white orbs which seemed to have the power to pierce right through the Marauder. Phiona Love was standing over him, looking as though she had just crawled out from the grave. She smiled, making Sirius grimaced with an icy fear. "Are the mortals afraid of death?"

Vision throbbing, Sirius closed his eyes tightly. In a few seconds, his consciousness slid away.

Down into a hateful darkness.

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

"Ph - Phiona!"

Sirius sat up suddenly, already pleading with his friend not to kill. Then . . . he realized he could breathe again. He closed his eyes and let the pure air fill his lungs.

"Took you long enough, Pads. You okay?"

James's was in the four-poster next to Sirius, a bowl of broth in his hands. Remus and Peter were seated at the end of the bed, each with matching expressions of concern on their faces.

They were back in their own dorm room, Sirius realized. No where near Phiona and the death which she wished to produce for him. "Oh God," he croaked. "I feel like I've been mauled by a hippogriff. How'd we get here?"

"Dantie Greene came stumbling into the common room, ranting something about penguins in the old dungeons." Remus gave a half smile. "We knew you blokes had to be behind it, so Pete and I went looking for you."

"You were both passed out when we found you," Peter continued. "Had you drag you back here - what happened to you, anyways?"

Sirius exchanged a concerned look with James. "Phinny," the latter Marauder sighed. "She tried to kill us."

"Kill you?" Peter stared wide-eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Oh yes, well . . . we could be mistaken." Sirius rubbed the side of his throat. It still ached from its brisk depletion of oxygen. "Maybe suffocating someone to death is her new way of saying 'how do you do'."

"As a personal favour for me, Sirius. Please don't kiss any girls ever again," James commented darkly.

"The fever must have hit her harder then we expected," Remus commented.

Sirius scoffed hollowly. "A simple understatement," he murmured. "She wasn't just a smarmy, egotistical Slytherin. She was . . . evil."

"You could see it in her eyes," James put in. "Right Pads?"

Sirius nodded. Phiona's eyes, once spirited and lively, were now cold and dead. The very apparitions nightmares were made out of. "Have you found anything to help her, Moony?"

"I found something that might help us." Remus took out several pieces of folded parchment from his side pocket and slowly laid them out on James's bed. "I've worked a good half of the translations out from my book. It looks like the virus is a bit more like chicken pox then we first thought."

"Right then," Sirius remarked. "So we're all going to break out in big ugly blotches. I might as well 'Avada Kedavra' myself right now."

"Nothing like that, Sirius. And stop being so bloody melodramatic about it." Remus rolled his eyes in disgust then ran a finger along some text on the parchment. "It says here that a human can only be affected by Interieus Petitloupe once, just like chicken pox."

"So, once you catch it once, you can't catch it again?" Peter questioned.

"Oh, you can still catch it - you just won't be affected by it," Remus corrected. "Let's say Phin sneezes on James. Jim wouldn't become a four year old again - he'd just be struck with a hard flu."

"Like the one you had?" James asked.

"Yes. Same symptoms," Remus confirmed. "Only, the virus was forming in my body, it would die down in yours."

"Wait a moment." James snapped to attention, something sparking behind his hazel eyes. "Did you say die?"

Remus blinked, as if it just struck him as well. "I did, didn't I?"

"So, if the virus hits someone who's already had it before." Wheels were spinning faster and faster in James's head. "Then it dies."

"I - believe so. The translations might be a bit--"

"Bloody brilliant!" James exclaimed "All we have to do is get the virus from Phinny to one of us."

"This is going to be so bloody simple. What could be easier then . . . Oh. Oh, wait a moment." Sirius bit his lower lip, pretending to sink into deep thought. "Didn't . . . Didn't Phinny try to murder us both? Dear oh dear. That might be a bitty problem, eh? It might be a problem that Phiona's turned into a bloody psychopathic killer!"

The energy in the room fell off a high cliff into a low valley filled with sharp, point rocks. James shifted restlessly in his bed, wishing his friend wasn't so right. "Padfoot's got a point -"

"A massive point."

"--got a massive point here," James continued. "Phinny's not going to tolerate us stalking her."

Sirius gave a hard sigh. "But that wasn't our Phinny," he grumbled. "There was no Phiona T. Love left in that thing. It was pure, one-hundred percent über dark magic."

"Right," Remus agreed. "Whatever's back in the dungeons isn't going to remember who we are. It'll probably just kill us on the spot."

Sirius gave his sore throat a pity-rub. "Point taken."

"Absolutely corking. What are we supposed to do now?" James murmured. "No one in their right mind would go -"

"I'll do it."

Three shocked Marauders turned towards Sirius Black, who shrugged sheepishly. "I'll do it," he repeated.

"Pads." Remus raised a questioning eyebrow. "When Jim said 'nobody in their right mind', you didn't have to prove his point just for a laugh."

"I'm not being funny," Sirius insisted.

"Stop trying to be the bloody hero." James crossed his arms and scoffed in disbelief. "Remember what happened down in the dungeons? Phin tried to kill you. Kill you without a second thought. She's powerful enough to create the Apocalypse. Does that sift through your thick head all right, Sirius? Arma-bloody-geddon. The end, fini, doomsday, close the door and turn out the lights forever because no one's coming home."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Peter, did you let this bloke take your job as acting pessimist? I'd sue, if I were you, because he's not doing a very good job. He's just being bloody annoying."

"I'm not being pessimistic. For once in my life, I'm being sensible." James shook his head in frustration. "I don't want anyone scraping your liquefied body off the dungeon wall, Sirius."

"Understandable." Sirius shrugged the notion off and stepped out of the bed. His body ached in rebellion. "But I'm the one who gave Phin the fever. I should be the one who stops it."

"Fine Black, what are you going to do? Please inform us of this masterful plan you have in store for us. Are you going to politely ask her to blow nose oysters at you?" James made a wide motion with his hands, as if acting out the scene. "Er, excuse me, Evil Phinny. I was just wondering if you could use my face as a handkerchief before you cause the unholy Apocalypse. You know, if you don't mind. Oh sure, castration? Disembowelment? Yes, sounds like a lovely way for me to die, thank you."

"Fine, Potter." Sirius frowned. "If I don't step up, who will?"

James clenched his fists. "I will. I don't want to see you or anyone else killed."

"So you're going to go and get yourself killed instead. There's some bloody logic, for you," Sirius growled. "Who's playing the bloody hero now, Potter?"

"Oh piss off, Black!"

"Scat queen."

"Arse-bandit!"

"Fuc--"

"Shove it, the both of you!" Before fists could be swung, Remus put out the call to cease and desist. "You two and your inferiority complexes are suffocating Pete and me. Why don't we step back and think for a moment before we jump in head first."

"It was this pillow-biter that started the whole thing."

"Fuck a sheep, Potter."

"Will the both of you piss off?"

Peter, who was all too used to this sort of bickering and knew to stay quite a ways away from it, took the moment to ponder. Was there anything he knew . . . anything at all . . . that could help fix this mess. He thought hard, trying to remember - "Inferiority complexes!"

"Yes, Wormtail," said Remus slowly, thrown a bit backwards by Peter's outburst. "We just went through this. Sirius and James both have matching -"

"No, not that." Peter shook his head. "Remember in History of Magic class when we went over the dark wizards of the Dark Ages?"

"I was probably sleeping," James said promptly.

"I was probably trying to sleep," Sirius added, not to be out done, "but Jim's snoring kept me up."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I remember, Peter," he said. "Those were a bunch of evil blokes. What with casting the Black Death Curse and all. The Muggles thought it was all a plague."

"Yes, but remember what Professor Binns told us about them?" Peter's speech quickened, as though he was worried that he's soon forget the information which orbited on the tip of his tongue. "They thrived on the confidence that their minions gave them. They absolutely love when people grovelled at their feet."

"Ego-centric Dark Wizards," James said. "Nothing new. What's the catch, Pete?"

"Phiona sounds like she's become the type of powerful witch you could only find back in the Dark Ages," Peter continued hastily. "And those kinds of wizards and witches were always looking for devoted followers who'd do their dirty work for them."

"Are you suggesting that we throw ourselves at Phinny's feet," Sirius raised an eyebrow, "and become one of her cronies?"

"Just long enough to get close to her without having her kill us," Peter confirmed.

"You know, that might just work," Remus said, causing the shorter Marauder to beam with pride. "All Dark Witches need someone to brown nose them. Phinny might just go for it."

"Then, after we get close enough to gain her trust," James continued, "we'll hit her with some extra-strength sneezing pepper."

"She'll be snotting up all over the place," Sirius exclaimed happily.

"Right then." Remus scratched the back of his head. "Which one of us is going to be the guinea pig? I'd gladly volunteer, but, you know, I'm not human. If I caught the fever again, we'd just start this whole mess all over again."

Peter gave out a little wheeze of acute fear. He just came up with the idea - surely no one would expect him to bloody well carry out with it. It was apparent that he'd much rather stick his head in a dragon's mouth then face down Evil Phiona. This, then, only left James and Sirius.

"I've got this one, Padfoot," James said before Sirius had time to open his mouth. "I'd just feel better about his if no one else is in danger. I can handle myself just fine."

"Christ, Potter." Sirius grimaced in disgust. "No one's going to die. No one's going to get killed."

There was an awkward silence which spread through the dorm room like a hard wind. Each one of the Marauders knew perfectly well that the odds were against them. The only way they could get out of this without risking their own necks was if they informed the professors of all that had happened. Of course that, in turn, would most likely result in James, Sirius, and Peter's expulsion from school; Remus facing the wrath of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures; and Phiona . . . because of her threat, the Ministry would surely have her quickly disposed of. No, it was up to the Marauders and the Marauders alone.

"I'll make sure no one gets killed," James pledged. "Now, are we all in agreement? Sirius?"

Sirius took a deep breath. He had an odd feeling stuck in the pit of his stomach. The feeling that Phiona was, for some reason, his responsibility. His job. And there was nothing James could do to stop him. "You're an arse," Sirius replied.

"Right then." James let a soft grin cross his face as he opened his drawer to retrieve a canister of sneezing pepper. "The lot of you should stay here. I'll be back before you know it."

Sirius's eyes narrowed. There was nothing James could do to stop him.

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

"Come on, Potter. At least let me come. You know, I'm always useful to have around when evil sprouts up."

"You're not being very useful now, Sirius. Now bugger off."

"No. Listen to me. We said that Phin's become a daemonic witch from the Dark Ages, right? And the really nasty ones came from France, you know. You'll need me there to . . . erm . . . interpret."

"You're stretching that one, Pads. Besides, the only phrases you know in French have to do with vegetables, alcoholic drinks, or sexual innuendos."

"Right. You're point is?"

"Unless Phin says she wants a turnip, a shot of vodka, or a wild orgy on table, then you wouldn't be that much help."

"Got me there. Don't know the French word for table."

James finally stopped walking down the dark corridor in order to turn and face his friend, who had been keeping pace with James ever since they stepped out of the dorm room. "Sirius, I know Phinny's important to you. It might not go smoothly, but I'll get it done. Do you trust me?"

Sirius's mouth split agape, his brain not providing the words he so desperately needed at that point. Both of the Marauders cared for Phiona deeply but, if the plan took a turn for the worse, Sirius knew that James was the only one who could pull out his wand and use it against the witch. If this was what it would have to come to, Sirius trusted James's judgement more than his own.

"I'll be right back, Padfoot. I promise." Knowing that Sirius would never give him an answer, James offered his friend a few simple words of encouragement, then quickly disappeared down the dark corridor. Sirius was left alone, his mouth still hanging open uselessly.

To restate the obvious, Sirius would never doubt James Potter. He knew for a fact that his fellow Marauder would be back after his dealings with Phiona - whether he'd come back in a little pine box or not would be the question. And, since Sirius detested the smell of heavily lacquered pine, he'd very much prefer if James came back in one fully functioning piece.

Before he could let his conscience give him another swift kick to the groin, Sirius set off in the direction in which James had exited. He jogged lightly through the dim corridors, down a flight of marble stairs, and across the hazy Slytherin wing. By time he made it down to the abandon dungeons, Sirius had to stop for a moment to work out the stitch he had formed on his side. As it happened, however, Sirius had seemed to place himself right in the path of two very invisible Marauders barrelling down the hall. With one swift collision, bodies flew, curse words sailed, and one very worn invisibility cloak fluttered to the ground.

"Hullo, Padfoot." Remus put on a sheepish grin as he slowly got back on his feet. "Fancy meeting you here, eh? Peter and I were on our way to the library. Got a bit turned around, didn't we?'

"Library, my arse." Sirius curved an eyebrow, still sitting on the floor with his legs sprawled out in front of him. "You're coming down to make sure Phin doesn't disembowel James and roast him on the spit."

"Actually, if I would've known that there was a chance of any sort of disembowelment action," Peter used a pillar to prop himself up, "then I would have stayed in the dorm."

"How'd you lot get out of the dorm, anyways?" Sirius climbed to his feet as well. "Past curfew with the prefects circling like hyenas - You . . . You didn't kill anyone, did you?"

Remus rolled his eyes as he picked up the Invisibility Cloak and waved it in front of Sirius's nose. "Jim wasn't using it at the time," he said. "So we borrowed it."

Sirius gave a little groan. "Idiot."

"Bastard," Remus replied quickly.

"No no." Sirius snatched the cloak from his friend's hands and stuffed it into a side pocket. "I was calling myself an idiot for not thinking of that first. I had to convince one of our prefects that I had explosive diarrhoea and had to run off to the loo."

"Oh," Remus said with a slight chuckle. "Well, then I retract the bastard statement."

"Thanks."

"For a later date, of course."

"Piss off."

"I'd hate to interrupt this thoroughly useless conversation," Peter quipped, ringing his hands nervously. "But, in a few minutes, James plus Evil Phiona might just equal a lot of splattered entrails."

"Pete's right." Remus grimaced slightly. "And quite graphic, may I add."

"Right then." Sirius nodded down the hall. "Let's go give Jim a bit of help."

With Sirius leading the way, the three Gryffindors marched down deeper into the bowels of the abandon dungeons. It stank of sulphide more then usual that night; the acidic odour passed by slowly, taking its own sweet time to stop and scorch the boys' noses and lungs. The smog Sirius had seen the last time he was down here had spread even further down the hall, cloaking the last few rooms with a thick smoke screen.

Forced to light their wands in order to see a few yards in front of them, the three Marauders filed through the end of the hall, stopping short at the last darkened room. The last time Sirius stepped into that room, he had to be dragged back out. None of the boys wanted that to happen again.

"Just peak in," Remus whispered, pointed towards the last leg of the dungeons. "We don't want to interrupt if we don't need to."

Sirius and Peter shook their heads in agreement. They then put out the lights their wands carried and crept slowly to the foot of the door.

Mist which had once smothered the room had been cleared out, leaving the air thick and heavy. The lanterns that had once surrounded the main floor were permanently extinguished, replaced by several black candles which curled with age. The candles brought enough light into the dungeon in order to see the only two figures which occupied the room. One was hunched over awkwardly on one knee, his head and shoulders slumped forward. The other dark shadow loomed over, eyes radiating more light then all the candles placed together.

"Hear me out once more." James's voice croaked from the hunched figure. "I tell you, I've come to help. I have knowledge of this world that you do not yet possess. Please, I've come to aid."

The dark figure twisted her fingers so that her palms faced the ceiling. Some shadowy aura sparked suddenly surrounded James and lifted him off of the floor. The Marauder let out a muffled groan of deep pain which made Sirius wince. Even through the haze, Sirius cold clearly see crimson bloody running down James's face. He had gone through an ordeal, even before the other Marauders had gotten there.

"Got to help him," Sirius said through gritted teeth. Before he could take a step forward, however, Remus put out a restraining arm.

"Not yet," he cautioned. "If we rush in, Phinny might do something drastic. She hasn't killed Jim yet. That's a very good sign."

"I'm going to give a sarcastic retort on Jimmy's part," Sirius squinted deeper into the room, "and say that it's a great sign."

"You are starting to intrigue me, mortal." Phiona's voice floated low in the smog, causing everyone in hearing distance to shiver uncontrollably. James, who seemed to be affected by the sound even more, dared to let out a low groan. "Your true powers have yet to arise. I feel the Gift inside you."

"Christ," Sirius swore under his breath. "Phin's evil and completely off her bloody rocker. This isn't a good combination, mates."

"Given time to grow, you will become unstoppable." Phiona's pupil-less eyes widened a bit more. Her long fingers began to close around her open palms. James's face drained of what little colour he had left. Brief choking noises escaped from his throat. "Therefore, I have made the decision to dispose of you now."

James's eyes went wide with either complete horror or excruciating pain. His hand curled violently, wrenching at his throat as if trying to claw out another breath.

"I have always wondered how much pain a mortal can endure until they expire." Phiona began circling James like a ravenous shark waiting to taste blood in the water. "After your lungs fully collapse onto themselves, how long do you think it will take until you succumb?"

Phiona held a hand under James's chin and forced the Marauder to face her. His bulging eyes met the pure white orbs which now filled the witch's eye sockets. Gut wrenching gasps rolled through the dungeons - they were slowly getting shorter, however. Shorter and less energetic. A thin river of blood was running down James's chin from his mouth.

Death was most certainly knocking at the door, politely asking for little Jimmy Potter to come out and play.

"The process is quite interesting, I find." Phiona's long fingers ran down the side of James's ghostly face. A wicked grin flashed across thin lips. "I could pluck out your eyes with your optic nerve still attached," she cooed. "You could see yourself in a whole new light."

All at once, Sirius's brain shut down and filled with filtered adrenaline. Before Remus or Peter could catch him, the fuming Marauder tore into the room, giving a Highlander battle cry as he went. As if some deranged ghost of a Scottish rugby player had possessed him, Sirius staged a flying tackle at Phiona. He hit his target with gruelling force, sending both bodies tumbling to the ground together.

The possessed witch put up a fierce fight, calling out a brisk string of accent Latin. Sirius felt a sharp tug in the middle of his stomach, carrying with it enough force to pull him backwards. The Marauder made a wild grab, catching Phiona by the shoulder and anchoring him to the ground.

There was a sudden gap of time in the dungeon. Sirius's mind, everything around him, just stopped . . . He had Phiona in his grasp. Therefore, he had a chance to make things right again. He had a chance to stop this sickness before someone succumbed because of it. Sirius had a chance, but, in that brief lapse of time and space, he thought of few options. Asking Phiona to sneeze on him didn't seem quite possible at this point in the game; the satanic witch was much too busy calling up the Dark Fates to rip Sirius's body apart to listen.

"YOU'LL DIE FOR THIS, MORTAL!" Phiona's voice boomed, shaking Sirius's body to its very bones. He couldn't bring himself to look into her pupil-less eyes.

"Don't feel much like doing that today, you bint." Sirius was barely able to crack a sarcastic grin through all the pain that had suddenly been inflicted on him. "Though, if you remember this after everything is all said and done, I'm sure you'll kill me anyways."

As if suddenly having the urge to pick up where the sporadic love scene played out several days ago in the Great Hall left off, Sirius closed his eyes tightly and amorously met up with Phiona Love. The kiss, a deep and frightening act, lasted only a few seconds. This was enough time for Sirius to feel Interieus Petitloupe wash over him. He parted from Phiona, suddenly quite sick to his stomach. Still below him, Phiona looked as ill as the Marauder. Her eyes, no longer glowing white orbs, were now dark and sullen.

"You bastard," she rasped.

It was the immense heat that Sirius felt first. Blazing heat was soon upstaged by a roaring explosion that rocked Sirius until it was permanently etched in his bones. Sirius suddenly felt himself being blown off his feet. He was flying through the air, like some sort of ungraceful bird, and the wall behind him was approaching at an alarming speed. 'Maybe,' the Marauder thought, 'this will be one of those impacts where you don't feel any pain until later.'

'Nope,' replied his pessimistic side, 'afraid not.'

Sirius slammed into an already crumbling marble pillar, bringing it tumbling down over top of him. The pain was immediate and overwhelming; enough to pull the Marauder out of consciousness and down into a world of darkness.