The Marauders and the Arenotelicon

"So how's your mum?" asked James on the train ride back. Both he and Sirius had noted Remus' brooding silence and James was finally compelled to inquire.

"Dead."

It took both James and Sirius a moment to process Remus' answer, it was so abrupt and unexpected.

"Gods, Remus, we're sorry!" exclaimed Sirius in horror. He awkwardly patted Remus' shoulder in a bid to offer comfort.

"At least her pain is over," James said in a low, sympathetic tone.

"Yes." The two friends looked startled at the cold bite of Remus' tone.

"Are you going to be all right, Remus?" asked Sirius cautiously.

"Eventually." The other two boys winced at the icy tone and subsided their questions. Obviously Remus wasn't in the mood to discuss his loss and neither of them felt inclined to add to Remus' burden. They instead talked quietly to each other about their own break and tried not to disturb their friend any more than necessary.

Snape made a brief appearance to harass them but Remus gave him such a snarling set down that the Slytherin boy literally scurried down the train's corridor. Sirius and James both stayed as far from Remus' sharp tongue as possible after that, not certain that they wouldn't be on the receiving end of Remus' extremely bad temper.

Back at Hogwarts, classes continued and Remus informed Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore that a new lie would have to be invented, as he was no longer willing to use his mother's illness as an excuse for his monthly disappearances. Dumbledore agreed that trips home for the duration of the school year would be acceptable due to the family's grief. Remus was relieved that no one questioned his decision, whether they were teacher or student.

January closed into February and the second month of the new year drew to its own close. Remus still couldn't shake the depression from his mind. He couldn't help but wonder if his mother would have remained with them if Remus hadn't wandered off like he'd been told not to those years ago. Guilt was pressing down on him and turning into depression.

In a bid to try to feel again, Remus began suggesting pranks. It seemed the only time he felt the burden lift from him was when he, Peter, James and Sirius were up to something. James had persuaded the flying coach, Professor Wingate, to allow him and Sirius to teach Peter and Remus better flying techniques. James loved to fly and adored Quidditch. He was looking forward to trying out for the house team in his second year. Eager to practice and have someone to practice with, James had taken it upon himself to coach both Remus and Sirius. Peter, while he enjoyed just flying, wasn't eager to be on the Quidditch pitch and instead was in charge of keeping the balls in play or being the Keeper, or goalie.

His friends seemed to note Remus' desperate bid for activity and eagerly kept it coming. Sirius especially took great delight in finding things for the group to do. The more mischievous the better, was his motto.

Remus usually didn't care what the activity was, just so long as it took his mind off other matters. However, one incident in the first week of March brought everything from the prior term to head. A popular new past time among students during the less frigid afternoons from class was the Whomping Willow tree. More specifically, a peculiar game of tag.

The idea was to see who could try and touch the tree without getting hit by the flailing branches. Many students tried but none succeeded. Remus would occasionally worry that someone would accidentally bump the knot on the trunk but no one ever got close enough to do so. It was dangerous, but that was part of the appeal. Three students were exceptionally good at getting very close: James Potter, Severus Snape, and Davey Gudgeon.

The competition between the three of them was fierce. Gudgeon was a third year and Seeker for the Ravenclaw team. He was as quick on his feet as he was in the air. He and James ribbed each other good-naturedly, but Snape took the competition very seriously. That afternoon, Gudgeon was cheering on James as he and Snape dodged the Willow's maniacally waving arms, having already tried earlier and received a glancing blow on his arm, thus disqualifying him.

Remus, Sirius and Peter too were cheering on their friend, but James found himself 'out' when he jumped over one low waving branch only to get hit in the side and thrown a short distance away in mid-air. He sat up after landing, laughing at his misfortune. Snape had won that round and was gloating with two of his Slytherin cronies, Walden MacNair and Maban Wilkes.

"Nice form, Potter!" chortled Snape, nudging Wilkes in the rib. "Next time go for distance."

For once, James didn't get riled at Snape's harassment and instead joined sheepishly in the laughter. Remus followed Sirius and Peter to James' side and offered his friend a hand. James allowed himself to be helped to his feet, brushing off his pants and shirt afterward. The four of them were getting ready to head back to the castle when the hair on the back of Remus' neck prickled.

He turned sharply toward the trees of the forest just beyond, his senses alert. Sirius noticed Remus redirected attention immediately and turned to look in the same direction. "What the hell?" he gasp and the other two boys immediately followed suit.

Something was watching them from just beyond the trees. Large eyes stared unblinkingly at the group, seemingly unconcerned that there were so many. It seemed to Remus that whatever it was was stalking the group. Unthinking, Remus stepped out of the circle of safety and into the trees.

"Remus," hissed James in horror. "What are you doing?"

"Making it go away," Remus said calmly, confidently. He and the beast stared at each for a long moment before the eyes in the shrubbery disappeared. There wasn't even a rustle of leaves or a snap of a twig but Remus knew the creature had left the area.

The three of them were looking at him in shock. No one else had noticed, being occupied with new players in the game of Tag the Willow. Laughter and cheering had drowned out any possibility of anyone eavesdropping on the four of them conversing.

"Are you nuts?" fretted Peter. "You could have been attacked, Remus!"

"No, it won't get to me unless I'm -" Remus frowned and turned back. "Yes, only then."

Sirius' expression turned speculative. "Only when, Remus?"

"Nothing." Remus made up his mind. "Come on, I want to go to the library."

"The library?" echoed the other three in confused unison. "Whatever for?" continued James, perplexed.

Sirius was following Remus' train of thought, however. "To look up what we saw, right, Remus?"

Remus nodded, heading toward the castle. "I don't think Hagrid found the creature that attacked the sheep. I had the same creepy feeling this time that I did that night." Peter audibly gulped and James frowned.

"So, that's why you've been digging through the Restricted Section?"

"No." Remus shook his head. "I'm actually working on something for Dumbledore and my father," he fabricated, though admittedly it was a roundabout lie and sort of the truth. "It's just an added bonus that we have access to the Restricted Section to hunt for information about whatever is in the Forest."

"Shouldn't we tell Hagrid or someone instead?" offered Peter in a sensible tone.

"I did," Remus confessed. "Dumbledore told me it was my imagination, that Hagrid had found an unusually large bugbear that was undoubtedly the culprit. I wasn't sure then and I'm very sure it wasn't a bugbear now."

The four of them descended upon the library, snatching every book on magical creatures they could find. Remus raided the Restricted Section, much to Madam Pince's disgust, and brought out several old tomes on predatorial creatures. Page after page they pored over the books. Dusk settled over the library and Madam Pince began shooing students out of the library. Remus checked out several books as did James and they continued their looking in the Gryffindor common room.

"Hey, lookit this!" Sirius turned the book he'd been half-heartedly flipping through to where the other boys could see.

James pulled the book more to where he could read the small article outloud.

The Beast of Gévaudan. Though so named because of attacks in the tiny district of Gévaudan in south central France, the Beast of Gévaudan has been spotted throughout history in various geographical areas, mostly Europe. The reports, both magical and Muggle, have been scarce and mysterious, many times attributed to werewolves, despite the fact that attacks by these dog-like creatures occur on nights other than a full moon. Eyewitness accounts, again both Wizard and Muggle, state that the canine-like animal is roughly from the size of a large wolf to the size of a cow. What these beasts are and where they come from is pure speculation and no specimens, dead or alive, have been found to support these witnesses.

The four of them sat staring at the drawing accompanying the small article and Remus suddenly knew that they had discovered the monster in the forest. "That's it," he whispered.

"It's a legend," Sirius pointed out skeptically. "Most of the eyewitnesses to this have been dead for 200 years no doubt."

"What Muggles consider cryptozoology, Sirius, wizards know are real animals, magic animals," argued James.

"Well, yeah, but even wizards, according to this book, aren't even sure if this thing is real or not," Sirius argued back.

"Easy way to find out," Peter interrupted. "Find out more about this beast thing."

"Easier said than done, Peter," James sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Remus continued to stare at the old drawing. "Maybe," he conceded. "Maybe not."

Sirius looked at Remus, intrigued by the tone in his friend's voice. "You have a plan, then?"

"The beginnings of one, maybe."

"You're both mad," muttered Peter in disgust, closing the book with a creak of the old leather binding. "We should just tell the headmaster and be done with it."

James, however, had caught the same scent for adventure that Sirius and Remus had. "Without proof?" he challenged. "On a gut feeling? They'd tell us we're barmy and send us back to class."

Peter only shook his head, unwilling or unable to argue the case further.

"What's your plan, Remus?" asked Sirius eagerly.

"Let me think it through a bit more and I'll let you know," he informed his three compatriots. "It might be a while though. I want it perfect so that we aren't in too much danger."

"But you won't object to too much trouble," grumbled Peter half-heartedly.

Sirius clapped Peter on the back. "Ah, Peter, don't worry. We'll serve detention with you!"

Peter looked less than thrilled at the prospect. "Detention is what got us into this mess in the first place," he protested as Sirius began to steer him toward their community bedchamber. Their arguing voices faded as they went up the stairs.

James and Remus sat in silence for a long while, Remus pointedly ignoring the speculative look James was giving him. After several moments of long silence James gave a huffing sigh and stood up. "You know, Remus, you have to be the strangest bloke I've ever come across." He smiled lopsidedly when Remus looked up at him in surprise. "But that's okay, I like you anyway. Let us know when you've got your plan worked out, eh?"

And he too went up the stairs, leaving Remus to ponder exactly how he could work around getting his friends and himself into the Dark Forest to confront whatever was in there without exposing his own secret.

Remus waited impatiently for the tunnel entrance to the Whomping Willow to close behind him and immediately began to change his clothing as per his normal, full moon routine. He went down the tunnel and into the shack to anxiously await the moon's rise. It was ludicrous, really, he thought to himself. Normally he wished the moon would never rise on evenings like this but tonight he actually wanted it to happen. He was hoping that the Beast, as he and his friends had started calling it, would make its presence known to Remus' werewolf form once again.

It was a vain hope.

Remus awoke the next morning with no lingering sense of something that had alarmed his wolf self as he had before. He was not exhausted as if his wolf self had not tried to tear the shack down getting to something outside. It was disheartening but Remus reasoned that he couldn't get lucky when he wanted; it was something that required Fate to intervene.

April's full moon proved to be more providential for Remus' plan. If the werewolf had a watch and could read it, he would have noticed that at four that morning the Beast finally decided to come sniffing around the shack again. Growling at the intruder to his territory the werewolf knew he could do nothing more than pace and occasionally scratch and slam against the door or wall to make his presence known. The Beast seemed unconcerned this time with his presence, sensing that the werewolf was no threat to it in his self-imposed cage.

Once the sun had risen over the horizon and Remus groggily awoke, he felt satisfaction when the sense of something disturbing his animal senses had occured that evening. It took him several minutes to realize that the disturbing sense was still evident, as was a low growling on the other side of the shack's doorway. There was a quick flurry of scratching and whining and then the sound of feet padding away in a leisurely manner.

The Beast is getting bold, Remus thought with satisfaction. "Well, so am I," he muttered to himself outloud.