Promises Defended

Promises Defended

Chapter Sixteen: The Marauders' Revenge

Day six. Millicent Bulstrode was looking at him with frightened eyes. "Will he kill our parents, Professor Snape?"

Five minutes before the feast, the Leaving Feast, when the non-Death Eater Slytherins' parents were permitted to come pick up their children. "The Dark Lord is generous, Ms. Bulstrode," Severus replied coolly. "You need not fear."

"Yes, sir." And Bulstrode went off, back to her parents, one former Slytherin and one former Ravenclaw, as Severus remembered. They'd not been too many years ahead of him, and both had remained well clear of the war in any form.

The ploy was brilliant, really, inviting the other Slytherins' parents to dinner and sitting them down with amicable Death Eaters in a safe and welcoming environment. And then, of course, the other children could go home. Unharmed. Well fed. Cheerful.

Their parents, on the other hand, might start to wonder. Voldemort would be polite, even charming--there was still that much humanity left in him, because he could indeed be charismatic--and they would wonder. Was he so evil, or might he not be right? Indeed, they would wonder. Results might take months to develop, but Severus had to admire Voldemort's audacity.

The children were laughing already, happy to be amongst friends and family. Relieved to be finally and assuredly safe. The non-Death Eater offspring had been isolated from the bloodshed and cruelty, having been encouraged to stay within their common room and dorm rooms unless they were especially interested. Severus did not regret the idea now, either; every one of them was still alive, and if they had been bored and lonely, at least their innocence remained intact. For now.

-------------------------

"What do you mean we've pulled back from Hogwarts?" Clearwater demanded.

"Jason..." Hestia's voice was hoarse, lethargic.

"No. Not this time," he snapped back, glaring at his Mentor. "There are still students and professors there. We can't leave them."

Alice sighed tiredly. "Two professors are left. That's all." She grimaced. "The other students should be leaving now. Those who don't...well, we can't save them from their own parents."

"Do you believe that bullshit?" Clearwater demanded.

"Jason--!" Cornelia Crouch picked up where Hestia Jones was too drained to go.

"He's right," Calvin Waters interjected; Clearwater looked triumphant. "This 'Leaving Feast' has to be a trap."

"Not likely," Sirius responded, reentering the conversation for the first time since he'd broken the news to the other Aurors. "He's smarter than that."

"Yeah, right," Waters muttered. His Mentor glared, but Sirius ignored the silent exchange, sighing.

"The Aurors are barred from acting against Hogwarts. As I'm sure you heard, the new government has decided to give peace a chance." Angry frowns. "Until then, we must wait."

"What about Shacklebolt?" Dana Lockhart asked. "And Lupin?" Trelawney's death had been all over the papers; Voldemort had been fearless enough to announce that she'd died 'trying to escape.' A dreadful accident.

"We wait." Sirius resisted the urge to grind his teeth in fury.

"But--" Someone started.

"We wait."

-------------------------

January 19, 1993

SEVEN DAYS AND ALL IS QUIET

By Robert Moon, Special Correspondent

News started flooding out of Hogwarts last night with the release

of every child whose parents do not ardently follow He-Who-

Must-Not-Be-Named. In an oddly charitable gesture, the leader

of the Death Eaters hosted a banquet at Hogwarts School of

Witchcraft and Wizardry, and allowed the uninvolved students

and parents to leave unmolested.

At the same time, his spokesman Lucius Malfoy (openly a Death

Eater for the first time, though suspected for many years)

revealed several other details. Among them was the surprise

death of Sybil Trelawney, tragically slain in a botched escape

attempt.

"We regret the accident that caused Professor Trelawney's

death," Malfoy said earnestly. "Our Dementor slipped out from

under control. It won't happen again."

Malfoy goes on to detail that Hogwarts is safe and may even

reopen soon, depending upon how quickly peace negotiations

move forward. "The Dark Lord is neither capricious nor holding a

grudge," the senior Death Eater says. "He understands how

important Hogwarts is to is to magical Britain, and he has no

desire to deprive qualified children of their education."

These are encouraging words. For six days the Wizarding World

has quaked in fear, worrying over the fate of Hogwarts. Now,

however, those uncertainties seem groundless. Desire for peace

on both sides--from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Minster

Fudge's new government--seems to be cooling down the

twenty-some year long war, and perhaps an end is forthcoming.

-------------------------

His last visitor had came midnight: a drunk Rodolphus Lestrange who had not been coherent enough to cast a sobering spell on himself, let alone torture Remus. He'd ranted about missing his brother for awhile and then stumbled out. Nothing else. And no one else had come.

It was entirely too quiet.

So Remus lay in the darkness by himself, shivering periodically and trying not to think about moonrise. He heard Kingsley scream a few times while hung-over Death Eaters went about their sport, but no one opened his door. Were they waiting for Voldemort, or did they fear the full moon? Remus suspected the latter, but was glad for the time. His lycanthropy meant that his body healed faster than most, and every moment of time he had before moonrise made the eventual transformation less painful. The problem was that Remus didn't really fear the pain. He'd dealt with that for more than half of his life. Unfortunately, he'd been taking Wolfsbane Potion for almost ten years, and Remus was dependant on it. He did not fear pain, just loss of control. And there was no way around it.

Tonight, he'd lose himself.

-------------------------

January 19, 1993

SEVEN DAYS OF HELL

By Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

This morning, the learned reporter and former House of Slytherin

member Robert Moon published the reassuring article "Seven

Days and All is Quiet." This article described the peaceful

condition of Hogwarts, and spoke confidently about the end of

the war.

What Moon neglected to mention is what else is happening at

Hogwarts. Many students were released into the care of their

parents yesterday, and public reports have been in You-Know-

Who's favor, but private remarks tell differently. All is not well.

Anonymous students (fearful for their lives and those of their

families) tell ghastly tales of torture and bloodshed, particularly in

the case of Headmaster Remus Lupin, the Wizarding World's

poster werewolf. Sources indicate that he has been mistreated

ever since the first moments of the attack, when he was stabbed

in the back by longtime-suspect Death Eater and Deputy

Headmaster Severus Snape.

Public reaction to Lupin's treatment has been furious--Remus

Lupin is well liked by parents and students alike, and Snape's

betrayal brought the Wizarding World to a boil. Furthermore, an

anonymous Death Eater specifies that Lupin is still being

tortured, for what reason no one seems to know.

Description of these atrocities is not permitted in such a family

based newspaper, but one can be sure that they are amongst

the worst the followers of You-Know-Who can offer.

Groundless fears? Peace? Humane treatment? Could

Hogwarts' suffering headmaster testify, I am sure we would hear

differently.

-------------------------

The Inner Council met in the same deserted warehouse that the entire Order had used only two days before, down by two members and feeling drained. The last week had been murderous for all of them: the Aurors were strung out and impatient, James, Peter and Lily were out of jobs, and everyone was worried about Hogwarts. And Remus, Sirius amended silently, glancing at the time. He didn't have long.

"All right," Lily said quietly, clearing her throat. "We'll know in a few hours if everything is a go, so I want to stand by to act unless there are any objections."

"I agree. I know I'll be there," James said, shooting Sirius an unhappy look. Sirius ignored it.

"No."

Heads twisted around. "What?" James managed.

"No," Sirius repeated. "We can't." He shrugged. "The Order, I mean."

"I fail to see why not," Lily said testily.

Sirius hated to do this. "Several reasons." He ticked them off on his fingers one by one. "First, you don't have enough people to succeed against all of the Death Eaters plus several dozen Dementors. Second, a few hours' organization isn't enough to plan a raid on a toy store. And finally, moving now will taint James irrevocably."

"So?" his friend retorted bitterly.

"So, when Fudge flubs this up beyond repair, someone needs to be there to pick up the pieces," Sirius replied. "That's you."

James glared.

"And Remus?" Peter asked quietly. That question, however, made Sirius smile wryly.

"I've got another idea for him."

"You can't free Hogwarts by yourself," Lily pointed out.

"I don't intend to." Sirius shrugged. "Currently, I intend to take a plan of action to Fudge--the meeting is in thirty minutes--for an attack tonight. I expect him to refuse."

"And the Aurors will go anyway," Bill put in grimly.

Sirius shook his head. "The Aurors will do nothing."

"Who will, then?" James demanded.

"Peter and I."

"What?" Peter's eyes went wide with shock, and he stared at Sirius, swallowing hard. Still, his voice hadn't squeaked the way it once would have, and sweat wasn't pouring down his face. Several long moments passed as the others looked blankly between Peter and Sirius, but the smaller man's eyes were focused. Finally, Wormtail spoke. "I mean, uh, yeah. We will."

Sirius winked at him. He was sorry to have dumped the idea on Peter like this, but there hadn't been another way. There just hadn't been time, and Peter understood--he really did. James, however, had turned slightly pink with anger. He wanted to object, but was clearly containing himself.

Lily eyed Sirius suspiciously. "You really think that an attack will fail?"

"Tonight? Yes," he replied honestly. "There's not enough time and not enough hope. Voldemort would win easily."

The other Aurors nodded, and even James had to...reluctantly. Lily bit her lip for a moment and then sighed again.

"No it is, then," she said softly. "We organize for an attack in two more days. Is that enough time for you?"

"Probably. I'll tell you after tonight."

Peter looked a shade green.

"All right."

-------------------------

Not twenty minutes later, he was in another meeting, this one far less friendly than the last. It didn't help that Sirius knew exactly what was going to happen, from outrage at Skeeters' (unusually factual) article to a burning and genuine desire to make peace work. The fools.

After an hour of discussion, Sirius struck.

"Peace isn't going to happen."

Mouths dropped open. Toad Woman went bright red.

"Not today," Sirius went on. "Not tomorrow. Not while Voldemort feels able to hold and torture two men whose only crime was trying to protect children. Our children." He glanced around the table; he had their attention. "That some of those children died can not be blamed upon the Remus Lupins and Kingsley Shacklebolts of this war. The responsibility for their deaths lies with Lord Voldemort. No one else.

"The Lupins and the Shacklebolts of this war are victims. They need protection, saving. I have been a victim, ladies and gentlemen. I know how it feels. I chose to fight back, to become an enemy--but not everyone can make that choice, and not all the time. Those who cannot are those we are obligated to protect." Sirius sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So. Are we going to?"

Paden Patil scowled. "Protecting innocents and attacking an enemy stronghold are two different--"

"Enemy?" Sirius bounced forward in his seat. "Enemy, you say? I thought Voldemort was supposed to be our friend."

"Now, see here--!" Fudge snapped, but Sirius smiled.

"Kind of a contradiction, isn't it?" he asked. "Now you tell me, Minister, who you want to be associated with. Tell me which side you're on."

"I am on the side of peace," Little Fool snapped, growing flustered.

Sirius lost his smile. "So am I. Peace through victory. Peace with justice. Peace with honor. Not through selling our souls by refusing to act."

"Refusal to act today is not a refusal to do so forever," Patil put in. "Not attacking precipitously is prudence. Nothing more."

"Cowardice, you mean."

Sirius let that statement smack into the table like a hammer. The resulting silence suddenly seemed very loud--no one wanted to reply.

"Not saving those within your power to save is the greatest of crimes," he continued. "James Potter tried to tell you that, and you refused to listen. I am here to tell you again. We must act, or become that which we have fought against for so long."

Now I sound like James.

"Not so," Umbridge countered. "We would never stoop to that level."

"Wouldn't we?" Abner Bode asked, shocking everyone.

"Don't you see it?" Sirius asked earnestly, looking each in the eye and hoping for the first time. He had expected this plea to be futile, but now he felt the pull of his own words. There was a chance, if only they had the courage to take it. "If we move now, we can do this. The Aurors are ready. I can get a team in and out of there before Voldemort knows what happened."

"No." Fudge's tone made Sirius go cold, and he watched hope die. Felt it.

"We have to do this," he said quietly, rhythm lost.

"I am the Minister of Magic," Fudge retorted. "And I will decide what we have to do. The situation is well in hand. The attack is under consideration."

Sirius shook his head, suddenly drained by the emotion he'd exhibited. Darkness ate at the edges of his vision. "That isn't enough."

"Hem, hem," Umbridge put in primly. "You don't have a choice."

"Maybe I don't." Sirius rose. "But I don't have to be a part of this, either." I knew it would come to this, so why am I so disappointed? "Good day."

As he walked towards the door, Amos Diggory objected: "You can't do that!"

Diggory sounded as frightened as he did offended, but Sirius did not bother to answer. Did not bother to care. Why try to help those who refused to help themselves? Distantly, Sirius heard Fudge speak as he stepped out:

"He'll be back. He's too much of a hero to leave."

-------------------------

They met in Peter's apartment, Sirius having let himself in without knocking. By the time Peter came out of the shower, Sirius was lounging on his couch.

"Making yourself at home?" the smaller man quipped.

"Yup." Peter had left the WWN going, and some new music group, the Fuzzy Cats, was on. They weren't bad, either. A bit loud, perhaps, but Sirius had always liked loud music.

"How are you so calm?" Wormtail demanded, toweling his hair dry. "I'm a bouncing bludger of jitters inside."

"You don't look it," Sirius replied approvingly--and Peter didn't. He'd grown out of the quivering and timid boy had had been and become something far greater.

"Thanks. I think."

Sirius smiled slightly and sat up, swinging his feet onto the floor to make room for Peter. "I guess I'm used to it," he admitted. "And there's nothing Voldemort can do to me that would scare me more than he's already done, anyway. Who I am scared for is Remus."

"Yeah." Peter plopped down on the couch. "Is it odd that I'm more frightened for him than I am for me? I'm supposed to be the coward."

"You aren't a coward, Peter."

He snorted, shrugged a bit. "Sure I am."

"No, you aren't." For a long moment, he stared at the far wall, almost wishing that he had Remus' gift of visions. Maybe then they could have seen this day coming as children, and might have known that Peter was the strongest of them all.

"You're crazy, Sirius."

The quiet moment broken, Sirius turned to grin at his friend. "Quite."

Peter shifted uneasily, clearly trying to smile. He managed a little. "A bloody lunatic, that's what you are."

"Are you ready?" He had to ask, but the words weren't really necessary.

"No." The other laughed shakily. "But it's me. I'll never be ready."

Sirius smiled again, this time gently. "You were ready years ago, Wormtail."

-------------------------

So much for them leaving him alone all day--clearly, the newly-sober Lestranges did not fear the wolf as much as Remus had hoped. In tandem, they had cursed and cursed and cursed, until Remus thought he'd surely go insane from the pain. He wouldn't be the first, of course. Horace Slughorn had. Edgar Bones had. Sirius must have come close, once or twice.

His thoughts were growing fuzzy, confused; Remus tried to concentrate, but the effort produced little affect. His vision cleared a bit, but his mind kept spinning. Get it together, Moony, a voice strangely like Sirius' echoed inside him. He must be going insane. You aren't dead yet. Swallow. Cough. Focus on Bellatrix's annoying voice if he liked to or not. Concentrate.

Slowly, the cell slid back into reality, moldy gray walls far too close to his face. Every time he came to, the cell felt smaller, colder. Remus had never been claustrophobic before, but now felt like a good time to start.

"Wakey, wakey little wolfie." He shouldn't have concentrated on her voice. The sound gave him a headache. "Today is going to be a full day."

She giggled as Rodolphus supplied: "And a longer night."

Remus grunted as Rodolphus' left boot planted itself somewhere in the vicinity of his small intestine. His eyes stayed focused on the far wall. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand...

"Oh, is the wolfie sad?" Bellatrix inquired innocently. "However could that be?"

"The company," Remus rasped before her husband could answer, "is less than pleasing."

"Oooh!" she gasped, laughing harder. "It talks! The wittle wolfie whimpers!"

Not quite.

"Perhaps it should scream," Rodolphus suggested. Remus grimaced, though he tried hard not to. He had vaguely hoped for a few hours of rest before the inevitable...but that was not to be. No such luck. These two would stretch it out until the end.

"Darling, you're brilliant." He heard the kiss she planted on Rodolphus' cheek. Sickeningly wet and sloppy sounding, it made Remus grimace again. Bellatrix giggled. "On three?"

Brace yourself.

"Oh, yes."

Gleeful--he could almost hear her dancing as she cried, "Three!"

"Crucio!"

-------------------------

They Apparated into Hogsmeade together, which was a risky choice of destinations but smarter than the Forbidden Forest, where Voldemort was sure to be watching. Without a word, the pair started walking, their pace easy and relaxed, fighting to show none of the pressure or tension both felt. Sunset was just past, and the moon was growing round and full in the sky. At any moment, now Sirius expected to hear the telltale howl, but there had been nothing so far. Nothing and no one. The road through Hogsmeade was eerily empty, but they were on schedule.

"We're alone," Peter said quietly.

Sirius nodded. "That we are."

His old friend swallowed hard. "I never imagined it would be this way, you know. I always thought James--"

"James can't be here, and we both know why. Even if he could walk," Sirius reminded him gently. "Besides, you'll do fine."

"I know," Peter replied a bit reluctantly. "It's just...wrong. So wrong."

Isn't everything? Sirius swallowed.

"Yeah. I know."

"It always seemed that the four of us would conquer the world together," the smaller man breathed. "That we could do anything, face anyone, if only we were together. But now--it's just--" And he stuttered for the first time, just as they started walking away from the town.

"Yeah." Sirius felt his face grow dark. "I guess... it looks like it's just you and me, Peter."

Peter looked at him strangely but nodded; his hands only shook a little. Sirius smiled grimly.

"Then it's time for Wormtail and Padfoot to strike again. Call it the Marauders revenge."

"Marauders' Revenge?"

"For Remus. For James. For you and I." Sirius shrugged. "I think we all deserve a bit of vengeance after everything that's happened."

Surprisingly, Peter smiled. "The Marauders' Revenge it is, then." His eyes twinkled as the smile blossomed into a grin. "And let it be legendary."

-------------------------

And it was. Midnight arrived just before they did, having formulated the plan and acted upon it. Thankfully, so many years of pranking meant that they knew the castle and grounds extremely well, so well that Sirius and Peter didn't need the Marauder's Map, wherever it had gone. One of Harry's friends owned it last, but Sirius hadn't thought to ask. The map was probably still in the castle, innocently disguised as an old piece of parchment and lurking right beneath ignorant Death Eater eyes.

They used the cave passageway, bypassing the tunnels out of The Three Broomsticks and the Shrieking Shack because they were too obvious, too easy to set a trap inside. Getting there required a bit of a climb, but if they were lucky they'd be able to come back through the same passageway--no matter how unlikely that outcome seemed. Intentionally picking the difficult road often made things easier later on, a lesson the Marauders had learned long ago. Boldness over caution, with a pinch of sanity thrown in on the side--such was their method.

So Wormtail slipped through the small rat-sized hole that they'd dug during sixth year, emerging as Peter on the other side. The human was only visible for a moment, but those three seconds were important ones. A flick of his wand caused the mirror to slide aside before Peter transformed back, scrambling aside as Padfoot bounded through the opening. Not a single ward twinged an alert; like most of their kind, they were designed to detect human beings, not rats and dogs. Peter's brief appearance averaged out as an anomaly, not an alert. Sirius--Padfoot--grinned to himself. Nothing was perfect; the Death Eaters had simply piggybacked onto Hogwarts' existing wards, and he knew those well.

They padded down the fourth floor passageway together, with Wormtail darting forward to peek around corners before Padfoot ventured out. More than once, they bolted into the shadows to avoid laughing children, waiting in silence while the Death Eaters' spawn continued blissfully on.

Vaisey and Nott.

"Did you hear him screaming before the transformation?" Vaisey chuckled. "and then the wolf wailing--it's no wonder that my father has fought so hard against werewolf rights. They aren't human."

"I hear the Dark Lord has plans for him. Werewolf blood supposedly has a lot of uses in potions," Nott replied.

"How do you know that?"

"Professor Snape told me." A smug grin, so audible in the superior tone. Padfoot resisted the urge to growl. To his left, Wormtail shifted uneasily.

"What do you think he might do?" Vaisey asked.

He could almost hear them drooling. "I don't know, but I want to watch."

"Me, too!"

Padfoot glanced at Wormtail as the voices drifted down the corridor, fading. Wormtail's red eyes were pained and worried, displaying human emotions that could never come from an ordinary rat.

Suddenly, the floor seemed to tremble. From beneath them, an earsplitting and angry howl filled the school, making shivers run down many a spine. Lonely and painful, the sound reminded Padfoot of the days before there was a Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, the days when Remus was left alone with the wolf. Even now, with Wolfsbane Potion available, one of the Marauders always tried to be with Moony on those dreadful nights, even if it was just to cuddle up and sleep by his side. Lately, that duty had fallen to Wormtail more often than the others; with James' disability and Sirius' dangerous future, he had become the one who made the effort, who took the time. Sirius had tried--especially after his decade long disappearance--to be there for Moony, but Peter was far more reliable.

Fitting, then, that he was here for this day.

Padfoot shivered, glad not to be alone. The mournful howl ended, and a soft paw tapped against his own.

Padfoot nodded. It was time to move.

Wormtail in the lead, they snuck down the stairs, derailed only once by a shifting staircase. By two o'clock, they were in the dungeons, Wormtail having easily slipped through the bars and tripped the lock. The corridor was freezing cold, but Padfoot could smell Moony--that combination of blood, fur, and barely-restrained fury always marked the wolf. They were close.

Cold.

Padfoot froze without meaning to. His legs suddenly would not move. The hairs on the back of his neck jumped upwards, and his knees went weak. Padfoot could not stop shivering.

"Welcome to Azkaban, Sirius. Do you like the company?"

Shivering. Cold hands on his face. He'd been near Dementors before, but never like this.

"This is your life, now," the soft voice said. "These are now your companions." Pause. "Unless you break."

He shook his head desperately, blood pouring down his chin.

"I thought not."

Departing footsteps.

Coldness closed in.

Something jumped onto his back and Padfoot yelped in surprise, twisting around and seeking out the attacker with his teeth. But small claws dug in deep, and something squeaked in his ear. Mindlessly, Padfoot continued to struggle, desperate to be free of the Dementors--Squeak!--his attacker--Squeak!--and the memories.

Squeak!

A rat's small claws were digging into the scruff of his neck. Wormtail. Peter! He shuddered again, this time in relief. Peter. Peter was a friend. He wasn't alone.

Insistent squeaking in his ear made Padfoot remember what they had come for. Remus. Just thinking of their friend made the dog's head clear with startling speed. The pair was surrounded by Dementors, now, but the cold hands did not reach out. Brushing by, drifting aimlessly, and clumping together, the Dementors ignored them. And--as his ineffectual and half-focused eyes finally saw--they were staying well away from one cell door. Did Dementors fear the wolf?

Another howl, long and lonely.

Padfoot pressed forward stubbornly, driven by that howl. Within seconds, they had cleared the Dementors, but he was super conscious of their presence at his back. Cold. Still shivering, the black dog reached the reinforced metal door, the small rat continuing to cling to his back. He sniffed at the edges, scenting different air: blood, pain, and fury. Determination. It was definitely Moony. The smell was a bit different, but this was Moony. Padfoot whined.

The answering howl sent an excited chill down his spine. Moony was his friend, his playmate, his pack. So was Wormtail, but Prongs was missing, and that thought sobered the more doggy-like thoughts. Sirius had a job to do and a friend to save. He could not afford distraction, especially with Dementors at his back. Not now.

Wormtail's grip suddenly relaxed, and Padfoot took advantage of it, shaking his head back and forth until the rat toppled off. Wormtail let out a disgruntled yelp-squeak in response, but picked himself up quickly. Sorry, old friend.

He shoved the rat aside with a front paw, the movement clumsy in dog form. No matter; that would change soon enough. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that the Dementors were still edging away from the cell...but unfortunately, that was also likely to change. Fast. Padfoot shuddered at the thought and turned back to face the cell door. No time. One moment's concentration, and he was human again.

Wand in hand, Sirius focused his magic--Screaming. Magic tore through his body. "Are you--"--he was shivering uncontrollably. The Dementors were closing fast--Concentrate! He channeled all of the fear and the pent-up anger into the silent spell, and the door flew open. Immediately, Sirius jumped inside, not daring to look back. A solid kick slammed the heavy door shut and left him in the dark.

"Lumos!" Sirius hissed just as the first low growl filled the cell.

-------------------------

Arthur paced quietly, wishing he could be anywhere but there. Wishing that Bill hadn't insisted upon coming with him. Bad enough what had happened at the Ministry--James had deserved far better--Fudge's refusal to save Remus Lupin was sickening. Petty. Stupid. And what Sirius planned was ludicrous. He was surprised that Peter, who was usually so sensible, had gone along with the scheme, but it was too late to change that now. Besides, those two had a special talent all of their own, but trying to rescue a werewolf on the full moon? He was crazy. Never mind that James claimed they had been doing so for years. For fun. It was still crazy.

"You think they're inside?" Bill asked.

"I don't know," Arthur replied tightly. He checked his watch again. Almost three.

The two of them would wait in this cave until an hour past dawn. Then they would leave--hastily. Hogsmeade and its environs were no longer safe for wizards, even those of Voldemort's persuasion. Dementors were said to roam freely here, to do and breed as they wished. Arthur shivered, then forced himself to focus. This was important. Worth doing. Approximately five hours until dawn. The Weasleys would give Sirius and Peter every second they could. A bit over six hours. Don't take too long.

"They must be," Bill said with certainty his father wished he could feel.

"I hope you're right," Arthur breathed. "I hope you are."

Bill shot him a sideways look. "Sirius doesn't know how to fail. Especially when it's something important."

"I imagine so," the former deputy Minister of Magic had to say, picturing the face of a man he hardly knew, when all things were considered. "This is it, then. And Merlin save us if they fail."

-------------------------

He swallowed, hesitating. The wolf crouched in the far corner, hidden in the shadows and ready to leap, teeth showing and eyes glowing. Dancing. Hungry.

"Oh, shit," Sirius whispered, unable to do anything but stare. He'd known since first year that there was only one thing to do with a live werewolf (stun it and run), but now as a grown man, he was frozen.

The wolf cocked his head. He did not growl again.

Lulling me into a false sense of security?

"Moony?" The word escaped before he even knew it was coming.

The wolf took a tentative step forward, edging into the light. Part of Sirius wanted to--knew he should--back away, but he could not. Moony was coated in blood, with fur torn and at least one leg bent at a dangerous angle. Even his crouch was uneven because of the crooked back leg, and pain filled the feral eyes.

"Remus?" Sirius whispered.

Moony whined, came out of the crouch. He limped another step forward, eyes still on Sirius. Almost against his will, Sirius also took a step forward. Instinct drove him. He could not stop.

"Can you understand me?" Could the wolf, or was this something different?

The wolf nodded, very distinctively, still limping towards him. Sirius met him halfway, and Moony whined again, painfully. Hesitantly, Sirius reached out to touch his ears. Be prepared to lose that hand, Padfoot. He's not on Wolfsbane. Yet somehow he could not stop himself. Dangerous or not, this was right--and the risk was worth anything, even ruining his own life. Then the wolf's head pressed into his hand.

"You can understand me," Sirius breathed.

Moony whined.

"You ready to go?"

A definite nod, longing in his eyes.

"Then let's do it." Sirius moved back to the door, swinging it open and turning his back to the wolf without a second's hesitation. Idiot! sanity screamed, but Moony only padded unsteadily after him.

On the other side, Wormtail jumped, seeing the human Sirius and the wolf Moony. In the distance, the Dementors surged forward, but then Sirius was Padfoot again and the creatures stopped, drifting confusedly. Moony pressed close against Sirius' now furry body, unsteady and searching for support. After a quick nuzzle, Padfoot leaned down to push Wormtail forward. Beady eyes met his briefly, and the message passed was clear. They were running out of time.

Human breathing came from not that far away.

Padfoot froze, listening. Raspy and pained, accompanied by a scent that the human Sirius did not recognize--but Padfoot could. Kingsley Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt. Shit. They'd forgotten all about him.

Padfoot's head snapped around to stare at Wormtail.

The rat stared back with terrified eyes. Padfoot tried to swallow, but found doing so harder in canine form, especially with the cold lump forming in his stomach. What in the world were they supposed to do now? They couldn't leave Kingsley, but the entire plan hinged on the fact that the wolf wouldn't attack two Animagi. They weren't human, and he already knew Padfoot and Wormtail, knew them well. But what about Kingsley? The wolf hadn't attacked Sirius--would he leave Kingsley alone, too?

Moony nudged him, and Padfoot twisted back to look. A short whine made the point clear--Remus' thoughts matched his own.

He pawed at Wormtail again, and bobbed his head significantly. Wormtail stared back, shaking his head as if to say Are you crazy?

Padfoot tried to shrug, but it didn't work so well as a dog, either. Yeah, I am.

Wormtail sighed, which worked rather well for a rat. He glared at Padfoot, but skittered obligingly in the right direction. The dog and wolf both grinned, suddenly taken back fifteen years to that first night, when they'd all overcome fears and expectations. Had Prongs been present, this night would have been perfect...in an abstract sort of way. Odd how the memories creep up on you. In his absence, they'd just have to remember.

They reached the cell with Moony still limping and Wormtail in the lead. Cautiously, Padfoot glanced over his shoulder at the drifting Dementors, and then he was Sirius, acting before he could change his mind. His wand was level with the door by the time the transformation was complete.

"Alohomora."

Dementors surged forward.

Rat and wolf leapt through the door as Sirius strode in, twisting around to face the Dementors. The familiar chill tore through him, threatening to send Sirius cowering into a corner--so many!--but he forced himself to concentrate with the grim focus that years in Azkaban had drilled into him. I owe everything I am to my friends. Wand stretched out. "Expecto Patronum!"

Brilliant white light filled the passageway, making him blink. By the time Sirius' eyes popped open, the creatures had fled, and he wasn't about to push his luck. Stepping aside and slamming the door shut, he pocketed the wand before noting the shivering wolf and rat. He reached down briefly to touch both, still amazed at Remus' newfound control--maybe they had given him Wolfsbane--and turned to face Kingsley.

The other Auror was as expected, battered and abused, looking sickly pale in the light Sirius didn't remember having cast from his wand. He was not, however, chained to the back wall, which indicated Bellatrix's recent presence. She always did enjoy letting people fight back, he thought dispassionately, half-surprised at his own control. Exhausted eyes opened.

"Siiuuus?"

"Yeah." He knelt by the larger man's side, aware of the calculating way Shacklebolt's eyes looked about. Good man. "Time to get the hell out of here." Without a further word, he dug into his pocket, and then handed over his wand to the Auror.

Most wizards were loathe to use another's wand or to allow someone to even hold their own, but Aurors were different. They trained to utilize strange wands, because you never knew what might happen. You never knew when you might be desperate. Kingsley, tellingly, did not hesitate.

"Brevisalvum Mali." A grimace. "Thanks."

"No problem." Sirius helped him to his feet. "Let's move."

Kingsley staggered for a moment, then gestured weakly in Moony's direction. "Is thaa--?"

"Don't ask."

"Alight." The big man spat out a mouthful of blood, still leaning heavily on Sirius. The spell made him functional, but both legs were obviously broken, and even an Aurors' Quick Heal could only do so much. His words were slurred. "Lessgo."

Sirius twisted around to look over his shoulder. Moony was still bleeding, and Wormtail's eyes watched him worriedly. I think this is the first time I wished he was something bigger than a rat. "Peter?"

Crack. Peter replaced Wormtail, moving silently to Kingsley's side. He was dwarfed by the taller man, but the support was what counted. "I've got him."

"Thanss," Shacklebolt whispered. His eyes were on Sirius, who knew why. He tried to smile, but the effort failed.

"I know," he said quietly. You don't approve of what I am, and yet you follow me anyway. What does that make us?

No words this time. No time for subtlety. The back wall was an outer wall, unlike Remus' cell. Heavily reinforced and warded, it was theoretically impossible to breach--but the only rule of dark magic was that there were no rules. Only consequences.

Dementors clambered at the door.

Wand up again.

The wall shattered, pelting the wolf and three humans with fragments. Only half of the opening actually led outside; the rest formed an impromptu dirt ramp because the dungeons were half underground. Yet the opening was big enough, and they sprinted forward, Sirius scooping Moony into his arms along the way. No time to be careful. No time to beware the wolf. He couldn't even afford to mind the snarl. They had to move and they had to move fast--Sirius dove through the opening, aware of Kingsley's heavy breathing behind him.

Ten feet.

Ten yards.

They were in the courtyard, heading towards the gate--

Fifty yards.

"Look out!" Peter's shout.

Sirius dropped to the ground, spilling the wolf free from his arms. Moony yelped, and Sirius grouped blindly for the wolf--would his instincts take over and make him attack? Even Death Eaters did not deserve Moony's bite, and Remus would never be able to live with himself if such a thing happened. But the suddenly free wolf bounded forward, out of Sirius' grasp. The human howled in frustration, but Padfoot followed a split second later.

Even injured, Moony's long strides ate up the ground between the former wall and the now-startled Death Eaters, who had probably been up to no good in the first place. One screamed and ran way, recognizing the wolf for what it was, but the other two wheeled on the canines with wands drawn. Both aimed for Moony, who dodged the first curse and leapt at the closer Death Eater--Make your choice, Sirius. Protect your friend or look out for the greater good?

Padfoot bowled over the Death Eater who was about to curse Remus; Moony had already tackled the other. Cameron Dunston went down hard, screeching in sudden terror, but a quick swipe of one paw and accurate employment of teeth cut that off. Sirius had never ripped someone's throat out before, and the blood tasted dry and salty in his mouth. He shuddered and moved on, preparing to force Moony off of Terrace Fawcett.

Still crouching, Padfoot stopped. Moony had torn Fawcett up with claws alone, never once biting him; despite that, the Death Eater was a bloody mess and well out of commission. The wolf stared at Padfoot with knowing eyes, nodding slightly as if to assure him everything would be all right. The courtyard was empty; Nott had long since fled. Damn.

Sirius transformed again and crouched by the injured wolf's side. Moony looked even more beaten and scrawny in the light of the full moon, especially with the blood caked on the side of his face. Fawcett lay moaning to their right, but Sirius ignored him.

"You are a mess, aren't you?" he whispered, tasting coppery blood again. Spitting didn't help much, but he did use his left sleeve to wipe some of the blood off of his chin. It smeared more than anything else, but that was the least of Sirius' problems.

Moony whined.

"Let's get you out of here."

Another slight nod from the wolf and Sirius picked him up again, feeling broken ribs shift and breathing come hard. Holding the wolf as gently as he could, Sirius turned to face Peter and Kingsley once more.

"Let's move,' he said harshly. "I've had enough of this place."

------------