Unfinished HP Drabbles
Title: Yes, You-You Are a Fag
Genre: Harry Potter, Marauder-Era
Rating: PG14
Main Character: Sirius Black
Pairings: L/J, R/S, possible others
Summary: Sirius spends a bit too much time thinking--which everyone knows is unhealthy for handsome bastards like Sirius.
Sirius stared into the mirror.
First he stuck out his tongue and examined the color.
Second he checked underneath his nose.
Then he studied his pupils.
…Surely if one were a homosexual, they could tell, right?
Surely there would be some voice that told him Yes, you-you are a fag, or maybe some physical sign-like a birthmark that spelled out the word P-O-N-C-E… Surely there would be something-anything-that would let a bloke know he was gay.
Sirius frowned at his reflection.
“Pads, what the sodding hell are you doing in there?” James’s voice echoed from beyond the wooden door.
Quickly snatching up a comb, the once-heir to the Black fortune approached the door and flung it open. “Yes, my dear? Is something the matter?” He crooned, teasingly, “Did you see a mouse-I mean, Wormtail-in your slippers or something?”
The messy-haired boy leveled a glare at him from behind the lenses of his glasses. “Shove it, Padfoot. I need to use the loo.” He grumbled-still not fully awake.
“Be my guest.” Sirius bowed mockingly and slipped out the door.
Maybe there was a potion that would tell him.
--
Sirius skirted the crowds of Gryffindors in the common room, hiding his gaze in the floor as if afraid people would be able to read his confused thoughts if he dared raise his eyes to meet another’s.
Sirius huddled in on himself close to the wall of the common room, waiting for the other Marauders to show up. He didn’t dare raise his eyes to meet any of the many gazes in the room, worried that if he did he would uninten
--
A/N: Why yes, I realize that I am a bastard who cuts off in the middle of words. SHUT UP.
--
Title: Crazy Urges
Genre: Harry Potter, re-write!AU
Rating: PG14
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: What if Harry did knock the goblet out of Lupin’s hands that time in his office?
Chapter 1: Don’t Cry Over Spilt Potions
(The parts in bold are taken from the American paperback version of Prisoner of Azkaban and the page numbers will be listing after each part, because I’ve been ruined by MLA formatting forever. There has been minor editing to a few parts that are quoted)
The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his black eyes narrowing.
“Ah Severus,” said Lupin, smiling. “Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”
Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.
“I was just showing Harry my grindylow,” said Lupin pleasantly, pointing at the tank.
“Fascinating,” said Snape, without looking at it. “You should drink that directly, Lupin.”
“Yes, yes, I will.” Said Lupin
“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued. “If you need more.” (page 156)
--
“You’ve got the stuff, righto, Messer George.” Fred grinned, and George answered with a mirroring expression.
“Of course, and I assume you’ve made it to Hogsmeade and back already with the fireworks, Messer Fred”
“The sail-nosed git won’t know what hit him.”
They grinned at one another and strode into the vacant office, having made sure Snape was gone by the Marauder’s Map beforehand.
“Get some of the pixie dust for those cupcakes we were working on last week, some dust should really get the puffs working and we’re all out.” Fred gestured to the jars on the shelves and to the bag of sugar and beans George had in hand.
“There’s a potion smoking away over here, drop those fireworks into it. The sail-boated git will love finding that all over his walls.” George quickly exchanged the jar of pixie dust for a jar of sugar and a few other similar jars of ingredients for jars of beans.
Fred made a saluting motion and worked the fireworks out of his pockets, turning over a few and figuring out which would make the biggest mess.
“Mischief Managed yet?” George asked, glancing over his shoulder at Fred and nodding his head at the Map, which read Snape still busy in Lupin’s office but edging to the hall now.
“Nearly,” Fred dropped a handful of Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks into the large cauldron, “Okay, we’re Managed. Let’s fly.”
They scurried out, leaving the fireworks to explode in due time as the wet-start fuses lit themselves.
--
“I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.”
“Not at all,” said Snape, but there was a look in his eye that Harry didn’t like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.
Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.
“Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,” he said. “I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex.” H picked up the goblet and sniffed it. “Pity sugar makes it useless,” he added, taking a sip and shuddering.
“Why--?” Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question.
“I’ve been feeling a bit off-color,” he said. “This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it.”
Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands. (page 157)
Harry jumped up, impulsively grabbing for the goblet in Lupin’s hands, “Don’t drink that! He’s probably poisoned it!” The goblet slipped from both of their fingers and split along the floor.
“Harry!” Lupin exclaimed, snatching his wands up and trying to salvage what was left of the potion.
--
“You don’t have any more at all?” Remus Lupin stared at Severus Snape. “But you said that you had plenty more.”
“Well, I hadn’t been expecting to find my office ransacked when I came back to it.” Severus snapped.
Remus ran a nervous hand through his hair, staring at the floor, “It’ll take too long to brew any more of it.”
Severus just scowled further, his dark eyes narrowing. “Well,” He continued irritably, “I’ll get started on next month’s dose. Do try not to attack any students in the meantime, Lupin.” He turned on his heel and strode off.
Remus covered his face with a hand. He would have to use the Shack then. He wasn’t looking forward to the next moon.
--
The Fat Lady was still missing, and Remus helped the other teachers search thoroughly. He would not let his worries disturb his ability to find Sirius Black.
Sirius couldn’t have used Padfoot to get into the castle. The Dementors would surely not be fooled by an animagus transformation. Remus told himself over and over.
But still, he felt it was his fault that Sirius had nearly gotten to Harry. Dumbledore surely deserved to know of his void of the Headmaster’s trust. Dumbledore deserved to know that Remus had repaid the undeserving trust the Headmaster had bestowed upon him by breaking that trust and allowing his closest friends to perform illegal transformations every month.
Sirius was a Dark Wizard. His Black blood had run truer then he had led Remus to believe and surely Sirius had plenty more ways to get into the castle then the one secret that Remus had kept. Sirius would never think Remus wouldn’t tell Dumbledore, no, of course, Sirius must be using some complicated Dark magic to get into the castle.
It wasn’t Remus’s fault that the Fat Lady had been attacked. It wasn’t.
It was Sirius’s fault for following Voldemort, for killing James and Peter, and betraying Remus.
…But then, why did Remus still feel like this was entirely his fault?
--
As soon as Remus walked into the Shack, he knew something was wrong.
The place practically stunk of Padfoot.
But, the moon was already rising and the werewolf couldn’t be waved off. The transformation hit him all too soon and there was no reason left to the wolf’s mind after that.
--
“Moony… Oh Moony… Dear Moony…” A voice pulled Remus to the waking world slowly. Then the pain drove him back, wishing for the senseless world of dreams, but already his mind was becoming restless inside his pain-racked body.
“Shadd’up Ser’us… Padfoo’. It’s’not tim’ for class’s ye’t.” His lips moved sluggishly, his mind struggling to make sense of the here and now. Right, full moon, that explained the pain. Surely Sirius knew better then to wake Remus before Madam Pomfrey came for the werewolf. “Git outta her’ b’fore Poppy ge’ts her’.” He muttered, wanting to turn over and go back to the darkness of sleep for a bit longer. Maybe when he woke up again, his body will be better healed and less achy and…
Old. Right, he was old now. He wasn’t a student anymore. Sirius…
Everything came back to him in a flash of overwhelming pain.
“Black!” Remus jerked his painful body from the warmth at his side. He tried to sit up, tried to get to his wand, tried to destroy Sirius like he had destroyed Remus, but his traitor body refused and instead he retched the remaining contents of his stomach.
When the awful pain subsided enough to make sense of things again, a strong arm was holding him still, a bucket catching his sick, and a gentle hand was stroking his hair carefully.
“Black,” He croaked, his voice cracking from misuse over the course of the previous night, “Get the bloody fucking hell away from me.” He breathed harshly, trying to steady himself enough to throw his ex-friend away from his side.
“Moony…”
“Don’t call me that, you bastard.” Remus kept his head bowed, his body shaking as he struggled away from the arms holding him.
“…I didn’t betray him, Moony.” The traitorously familiar voice sounded completely truthful as if wishing only for forgiveness. “I would have rather died then betray James.”
“You don’t deserve to speak his name, traitor.” Remus spat with a low growl. The wolf still ran under his skin, still strong with the moon, and it wanted blood. For once, Remus agreed with the wolf.
The strong arms holding the werewolf stilled, then draw away. Remus nearly collapsed back to the bed with the absence, but painfully held his body in its sitting position. If Black were to try to kill him, at least he would be able to sit on his own.
Black had his back to Remus, but even through his well worn prison robes, the werewolf could see the bones of his frame just barely hidden by a well weakened flesh. Remus felt a beat of empathy and pity for his once friend, but he quickly shed such feelings for the stronger hatred that pulsed with his blood, a lust for the traitor’s death.
“I didn’t betray James,” The voice startled Remus for a moment out of his anger, it was filled with so much sorrow, “But I may as well have killed him.”
Remus snarled, pushing the weaker feelings away for sake of rage, “You might not have said the curse which killed him, but you killed James all the same, you traitorous bastard.” Then his voice broke with the confusion and fear that always followed his transformations, “Why haven’t you killed me? Just kill me, Sirius.”
Matted black hair swung as Black whipped around to see Remus with his face in his shaking hands. “Moony…” Black whispered in a broken voice.
“Please. Please, just kill me Padfoot.” Remus’s voice weakened and a near-sob struggled through his throat, “Please… for whatever friendship or kindness or pity you might have felt for me, just kill me.”
A wiry hand stroked the graying brown hair upon Remus’s head. “I could never kill you, Moony.” He sounded like he meant it. The werewolf jerked his head from Black’s grasp and amber-brown eyes practically boiled from the sheer rage held under them.
“Just kill me!” Remus nearly shrieked, hate-filled tears streaming his cheeks, “I have nothing! You’ve left me with nothing, Black! Just kill me and be done with it!” Remus couldn’t have ever hated someone more than at this moment. “You’ve taken everything from me. Just kill me.” He finished brokenly, laying his head back into his shaking hands, and breathing hard.
Black sat down hard next to him, Remus couldn’t help but flinch and Black flinched in return. Remus stared at his hands, and Black stared at the far wall.
“Just kill me.” The werewolf pleaded in a small voice.
The answer was stiff, but also pleading in its own way, “There is only one I want to kill.”
Remus’s head jerked up, his hands flying to the sides of the bed, gripping it tightly, “I won’t let you kill Harry.” Remus grabbed Black’s dirty robes, his hands shaking with the effort. “I won’t.”
Black stiffened under Remus’s hands as if burned. A skull-like face twisted around to stare with eyes sunken within their sockets. “I would never kill Harry.” Black nearly snarled.
Remus just gripped the disgusting cloth tighter, making it so Black couldn’t move but to tear the robes.
“I…” Black shifted his grey eyes to the bed, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not here to kill Harry.” A gasping and harsh laugh broke from his throat, and Black threw his head back, “Bloody hell, I don’t even know if this is a dream or a nightmare, maybe it’s even real, but I would never kill Harry.”
The werewolf’s answer was to shift his grip to Black’s arms, hanging on tightly.
“You don’t understand,” Black gasped as if the air in his lungs had turned to fire, “He’s here.”
Grip bruising Black’s arms, Remus snarled, “You brought Voldemort with you? He’s dead!” The werewolf exclaimed hysterically, “Dead! Even you can’t raise the dead!”
The ex-prisoner gave another rasping laugh, “Not Voldemort you swot. I didn’t come here to bring anyone back. I came to finished what I started.”
“I told you, I won’t let you kill Harry, Black!” Remus shouted, his throat still rasping from the howl of last night. He pulled Black closer, finger-shaped bruises marking his once-friend’s arms.
“I’m not here to kill Harry!” Black yelled back into Remus’s face, “I’m here for him!” He shoved a piece of paper at Remus.
It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron’s shoulder, was Scabbers. (page 362)
“The Weasleys?” Remus’s grip loosened slightly as he stared at the photo. “Ron?” He sputtered, following Black’s finger. He then snarled, grip tightening again, “You’ve going to kill Harry’s best friend?” You’re going to do to him what you did to me? “It’s not enough for you to take the lives of his parents, your friends, but you’ve got to destroy what life he’s been making for himself? You sadistic--”
“No!” The ex-prisoner barked out roughly. “I didn’t-I would never-I’m not-” He took a breath as if fighting back nightmares, and by the look in his stormy eyes, that estimation wasn’t far off. He seemed to gather himself then and said in a tightly controlled voice, “Peter. I’m here to kill Peter.”
Remus’s eyes drifted to the rat on Ron’s shoulder in the photo. “My God… Peter,” he inhaled sharply, at the familiarity of the little creature, than stared at its front legs, “His front paw…”
“He’s got a toe missing,” said Black, who watched Remus intently.
“Of course,” Lupin breathed. “So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?”
“Just before he transformed,” said Black. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself-and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…”
“The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger.” (363) Remus remembered aloud, his eyes moving to Black’s harsh face and waxy complexion.
“But then…” Remus stared at his once-friend, “…why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless” -Remus’s eyes suddenly widened, as his mind whirled on, memories flashing in his mind’s eye as he remembered the times before that faithful Halloween, “-Unless he was the one… unless you switched…without telling me?”
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Remus’s face, Black nodded. (page 344)
Unwinding his fingers from around Black’s arms, Remus suddenly wrapped his arms around the man instead, pulling him into a tight hug.
Awkward and still-shaking arms wove their way around Remus’s middle and held him just as tightly.
“I assume you thought I was the spy then.” The werewolf rested his forehead on Sirius’s filthy, bony shoulder.
“Forgive me, Remus,” Sirius uttered, as if the words had much more meaning then just forgiving him for thinking his friend was the spy.
Remus touched the top of Sirius’s mattered and disgusting hair carefully, pulling away to see his friend’s thin face, “Not at all, Padfoot, old friend.” The corners of his mouth edged into a small smile, “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?”
“Of course,” said Sirius, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. (page 373)
Remus let his smile widen slightly, and Sirius answered with a pale smile that looked nearly painful.
The werewolf tried to shift his weight, but the adrenaline that had kept him numb to the pain racking his body was gone now and the pain wasn’t. He nearly cried out in agony, but bit his lip instead.
Sirius was there instantly, holding Remus still with his thin, but still strong arms. He carefully lowered Remus to the bed, using a curtain from one of the boarded up windows to cover him.
Then Sirius was Padfoot and the huge black dog huddled close to the wounded werewolf, sharing warmth and doggy sober.
After a length of time, Remus felt himself begin to drift back to unconsciousness. The extra warmth from Padfoot was enough to relax some of his sore muscles and numb away some of the pain from his injuries.
Padfoot suddenly perked his head up, ears twisting towards the tunnel door.
“Poppy…” Remus muttered, not wanting to waken himself too much, “Yo’ll ge’t in t’ouble Pa’foo’.” He nuzzled his head back into the pillow, but winced as the comfortable warmth left him. Doggy nails clicking against the wood floor as Padfoot trotted away.
He was just drifting off again as he heard the door open.
--
It was after Remus woke again that he realized that Sirius might have just been lying.
The thought kept him from drifting back to sleep, even when that’s all he wanted to do.
--
Remus found that Snape had apparently caused quite enough turmoil in his classes while he had been ‘ill’
He quickly assured the class “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to Professor Snape. You don’t have to do the essay.”
Although from the middle of the classroom, a cry when up. “Oh no,” said Hermione, looking very disappointed. “I’ve already finished it!”
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but-
“Wait a moment, Harry and Ron.” Remus called, “I’d like a word.”
Harry and Ron doubled back and watched Remus covering the hinkypunk’s box with a cloth.
Hermione waited by the doorway, watching her two friends as they wandered over to their professor.
Remus looked from one boy to the other, “Ron, do you happen to have your pet rat on you?”
Ron looked intensely confused, but he pulled a frantic Scabbers out of his pocket. The rat flipped out, scratching Ron in attempt to escape. “Ow! What the hell, Scabbers! There’s no Crookshanks around!” Ron yelped, holding the rat tightly, “That damned cat has got poor Scabbers so freaked out…” He seemed to remember Remus standing there and added, “Sorry, Professor Lupin. He’s just scaried of Hermione’s cat. Crookshanks has been chasing him all around.”
Hermione let out a snort and rolled her eyes.
Remus nodded solemnly and reached for a jar he had on the corner of his desk. He had spelled the jar beforehand against escape. “Well, I was going to ask whether I could borrow your rat-Scabbers, was it?-for a bit. And I was thinking that maybe Harry would like to come along with me to Dumbledore’s office?” He peered at the two of them, “We could have tea together.” He added as an afterthought.
The two students seemed very confused, and Ron hesitated. “What are you going to do to him?”
Remus eyed the rat with a carefully neutral expression, “Would you like to come with us to Dumbledore’s office then too?”
Scabbers squealed and bit down on Ron’s hand, causing him to drop the rat, but Remus alright had the jar under him. Remus quickly snapped the lid shut, wrinkling his nose at the creature inside before seeming to remember Ron and Harry watching him and steeling his expression again.
“Scabbers is ill, don’t hurt him!” Ron exclaimed reaching for the jar.
Remus thought quickly, “Don’t worry, I’m just working out a theory. If my theory is wrong, Scabbers won’t be hurt at all.”
“And if it’s right?” Harry frowned at his Professor.
“If my theory is right, you’re going to want a new rat, Ron.” He said coolly.
Hermione strode over then, “What sort of answer is that?” she was looking at Remus oddly.
Ron and Harry looked at one another. Their professor was acting very strangely.
Harry gave Remus had odd look, “Did you drink another one of Snape’s potions?”
Remus chuckled, “No, Harry. Look, I promise I won’t harm anyone’s pet rat.”
Ron seemed settled by that and nodded, Harry gave Remus a searching look, but nodded.
Hermione crossed her arms, “Well if you two are going, I want to come too.”
Remus nodded to her and the two boys and girl followed Remus, who held the jar securely in his arms, to Dumbledore’s office.
--
Remus stared when he had reached Dumbledore’s office.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered to himself.
Padfoot just wagged his tail in reply.
Dumbledore patted the huge dog’s head as he sat in his chair, “Oh hello, Remus, Harry, and Ron.”
Padfoot stood and began towards Harry, but Remus shot him a stern look and the dog curled up beside Dumbledore again instead.
“Remus, I suspect you know who this is already.” Dumbledore smiled lightly, but when his eyes caught Remus’s, Remus gasped.
Remus had never felt his Occlumency defenses brushed aside in such a manner. “Y-yes.”
Dumbledore just continued smiling. “Ah, I see we have a few other things to talk about as well.”
Remus closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he kept them on the floor. He strode over and placed the jar, with the now completely terrified rat in it, on Dumbledore’s desk. “Shall I perform the spell now, Headmaster?”
Dumbledore turned his eyes on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who stood at the doorway, looking unsure and rather confused.
Remus followed the Headmaster’s gaze and said, “Harry, Ron, Hermione, if you don’t want to stay, I won’t make you. This next part probably won’t be too pleasant.”
Ron looked defiant. “You said you wouldn’t hurt Scabbers!”
Remus smiled but didn’t reply.
Harry looked from person to person, his gaze finally resting on Padfoot by Dumbledore’s feet. “I… I think I’d like to know what’s going on, professor.” He said quietly.
Hermione watched Remus with a suspicious look, “I agree with Harry.” She said.
Dumbledore looked from one face to the other, “Alright then.”
--
[don't even ask me to finish this]
--
A/N: Just don't ask. Seriously. Just don't. It STARTED as a joke. I SWEAR.
Genre: Harry Potter, Marauder-Era
Rating: PG14
Main Character: Sirius Black
Pairings: L/J, R/S, possible others
Summary: Sirius spends a bit too much time thinking--which everyone knows is unhealthy for handsome bastards like Sirius.
Sirius stared into the mirror.
First he stuck out his tongue and examined the color.
Second he checked underneath his nose.
Then he studied his pupils.
…Surely if one were a homosexual, they could tell, right?
Surely there would be some voice that told him Yes, you-you are a fag, or maybe some physical sign-like a birthmark that spelled out the word P-O-N-C-E… Surely there would be something-anything-that would let a bloke know he was gay.
Sirius frowned at his reflection.
“Pads, what the sodding hell are you doing in there?” James’s voice echoed from beyond the wooden door.
Quickly snatching up a comb, the once-heir to the Black fortune approached the door and flung it open. “Yes, my dear? Is something the matter?” He crooned, teasingly, “Did you see a mouse-I mean, Wormtail-in your slippers or something?”
The messy-haired boy leveled a glare at him from behind the lenses of his glasses. “Shove it, Padfoot. I need to use the loo.” He grumbled-still not fully awake.
“Be my guest.” Sirius bowed mockingly and slipped out the door.
Maybe there was a potion that would tell him.
--
Sirius skirted the crowds of Gryffindors in the common room, hiding his gaze in the floor as if afraid people would be able to read his confused thoughts if he dared raise his eyes to meet another’s.
Sirius huddled in on himself close to the wall of the common room, waiting for the other Marauders to show up. He didn’t dare raise his eyes to meet any of the many gazes in the room, worried that if he did he would uninten
--
A/N: Why yes, I realize that I am a bastard who cuts off in the middle of words. SHUT UP.
--
Title: Crazy Urges
Genre: Harry Potter, re-write!AU
Rating: PG14
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Summary: What if Harry did knock the goblet out of Lupin’s hands that time in his office?
Chapter 1: Don’t Cry Over Spilt Potions
(The parts in bold are taken from the American paperback version of Prisoner of Azkaban and the page numbers will be listing after each part, because I’ve been ruined by MLA formatting forever. There has been minor editing to a few parts that are quoted)
The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harry, his black eyes narrowing.
“Ah Severus,” said Lupin, smiling. “Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”
Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.
“I was just showing Harry my grindylow,” said Lupin pleasantly, pointing at the tank.
“Fascinating,” said Snape, without looking at it. “You should drink that directly, Lupin.”
“Yes, yes, I will.” Said Lupin
“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued. “If you need more.” (page 156)
--
“You’ve got the stuff, righto, Messer George.” Fred grinned, and George answered with a mirroring expression.
“Of course, and I assume you’ve made it to Hogsmeade and back already with the fireworks, Messer Fred”
“The sail-nosed git won’t know what hit him.”
They grinned at one another and strode into the vacant office, having made sure Snape was gone by the Marauder’s Map beforehand.
“Get some of the pixie dust for those cupcakes we were working on last week, some dust should really get the puffs working and we’re all out.” Fred gestured to the jars on the shelves and to the bag of sugar and beans George had in hand.
“There’s a potion smoking away over here, drop those fireworks into it. The sail-boated git will love finding that all over his walls.” George quickly exchanged the jar of pixie dust for a jar of sugar and a few other similar jars of ingredients for jars of beans.
Fred made a saluting motion and worked the fireworks out of his pockets, turning over a few and figuring out which would make the biggest mess.
“Mischief Managed yet?” George asked, glancing over his shoulder at Fred and nodding his head at the Map, which read Snape still busy in Lupin’s office but edging to the hall now.
“Nearly,” Fred dropped a handful of Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks into the large cauldron, “Okay, we’re Managed. Let’s fly.”
They scurried out, leaving the fireworks to explode in due time as the wet-start fuses lit themselves.
--
“I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.”
“Not at all,” said Snape, but there was a look in his eye that Harry didn’t like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.
Harry looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.
“Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,” he said. “I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex.” H picked up the goblet and sniffed it. “Pity sugar makes it useless,” he added, taking a sip and shuddering.
“Why--?” Harry began. Lupin looked at him and answered the unfinished question.
“I’ve been feeling a bit off-color,” he said. “This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it.”
Professor Lupin took another sip and Harry had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of his hands. (page 157)
Harry jumped up, impulsively grabbing for the goblet in Lupin’s hands, “Don’t drink that! He’s probably poisoned it!” The goblet slipped from both of their fingers and split along the floor.
“Harry!” Lupin exclaimed, snatching his wands up and trying to salvage what was left of the potion.
--
“You don’t have any more at all?” Remus Lupin stared at Severus Snape. “But you said that you had plenty more.”
“Well, I hadn’t been expecting to find my office ransacked when I came back to it.” Severus snapped.
Remus ran a nervous hand through his hair, staring at the floor, “It’ll take too long to brew any more of it.”
Severus just scowled further, his dark eyes narrowing. “Well,” He continued irritably, “I’ll get started on next month’s dose. Do try not to attack any students in the meantime, Lupin.” He turned on his heel and strode off.
Remus covered his face with a hand. He would have to use the Shack then. He wasn’t looking forward to the next moon.
--
The Fat Lady was still missing, and Remus helped the other teachers search thoroughly. He would not let his worries disturb his ability to find Sirius Black.
Sirius couldn’t have used Padfoot to get into the castle. The Dementors would surely not be fooled by an animagus transformation. Remus told himself over and over.
But still, he felt it was his fault that Sirius had nearly gotten to Harry. Dumbledore surely deserved to know of his void of the Headmaster’s trust. Dumbledore deserved to know that Remus had repaid the undeserving trust the Headmaster had bestowed upon him by breaking that trust and allowing his closest friends to perform illegal transformations every month.
Sirius was a Dark Wizard. His Black blood had run truer then he had led Remus to believe and surely Sirius had plenty more ways to get into the castle then the one secret that Remus had kept. Sirius would never think Remus wouldn’t tell Dumbledore, no, of course, Sirius must be using some complicated Dark magic to get into the castle.
It wasn’t Remus’s fault that the Fat Lady had been attacked. It wasn’t.
It was Sirius’s fault for following Voldemort, for killing James and Peter, and betraying Remus.
…But then, why did Remus still feel like this was entirely his fault?
--
As soon as Remus walked into the Shack, he knew something was wrong.
The place practically stunk of Padfoot.
But, the moon was already rising and the werewolf couldn’t be waved off. The transformation hit him all too soon and there was no reason left to the wolf’s mind after that.
--
“Moony… Oh Moony… Dear Moony…” A voice pulled Remus to the waking world slowly. Then the pain drove him back, wishing for the senseless world of dreams, but already his mind was becoming restless inside his pain-racked body.
“Shadd’up Ser’us… Padfoo’. It’s’not tim’ for class’s ye’t.” His lips moved sluggishly, his mind struggling to make sense of the here and now. Right, full moon, that explained the pain. Surely Sirius knew better then to wake Remus before Madam Pomfrey came for the werewolf. “Git outta her’ b’fore Poppy ge’ts her’.” He muttered, wanting to turn over and go back to the darkness of sleep for a bit longer. Maybe when he woke up again, his body will be better healed and less achy and…
Old. Right, he was old now. He wasn’t a student anymore. Sirius…
Everything came back to him in a flash of overwhelming pain.
“Black!” Remus jerked his painful body from the warmth at his side. He tried to sit up, tried to get to his wand, tried to destroy Sirius like he had destroyed Remus, but his traitor body refused and instead he retched the remaining contents of his stomach.
When the awful pain subsided enough to make sense of things again, a strong arm was holding him still, a bucket catching his sick, and a gentle hand was stroking his hair carefully.
“Black,” He croaked, his voice cracking from misuse over the course of the previous night, “Get the bloody fucking hell away from me.” He breathed harshly, trying to steady himself enough to throw his ex-friend away from his side.
“Moony…”
“Don’t call me that, you bastard.” Remus kept his head bowed, his body shaking as he struggled away from the arms holding him.
“…I didn’t betray him, Moony.” The traitorously familiar voice sounded completely truthful as if wishing only for forgiveness. “I would have rather died then betray James.”
“You don’t deserve to speak his name, traitor.” Remus spat with a low growl. The wolf still ran under his skin, still strong with the moon, and it wanted blood. For once, Remus agreed with the wolf.
The strong arms holding the werewolf stilled, then draw away. Remus nearly collapsed back to the bed with the absence, but painfully held his body in its sitting position. If Black were to try to kill him, at least he would be able to sit on his own.
Black had his back to Remus, but even through his well worn prison robes, the werewolf could see the bones of his frame just barely hidden by a well weakened flesh. Remus felt a beat of empathy and pity for his once friend, but he quickly shed such feelings for the stronger hatred that pulsed with his blood, a lust for the traitor’s death.
“I didn’t betray James,” The voice startled Remus for a moment out of his anger, it was filled with so much sorrow, “But I may as well have killed him.”
Remus snarled, pushing the weaker feelings away for sake of rage, “You might not have said the curse which killed him, but you killed James all the same, you traitorous bastard.” Then his voice broke with the confusion and fear that always followed his transformations, “Why haven’t you killed me? Just kill me, Sirius.”
Matted black hair swung as Black whipped around to see Remus with his face in his shaking hands. “Moony…” Black whispered in a broken voice.
“Please. Please, just kill me Padfoot.” Remus’s voice weakened and a near-sob struggled through his throat, “Please… for whatever friendship or kindness or pity you might have felt for me, just kill me.”
A wiry hand stroked the graying brown hair upon Remus’s head. “I could never kill you, Moony.” He sounded like he meant it. The werewolf jerked his head from Black’s grasp and amber-brown eyes practically boiled from the sheer rage held under them.
“Just kill me!” Remus nearly shrieked, hate-filled tears streaming his cheeks, “I have nothing! You’ve left me with nothing, Black! Just kill me and be done with it!” Remus couldn’t have ever hated someone more than at this moment. “You’ve taken everything from me. Just kill me.” He finished brokenly, laying his head back into his shaking hands, and breathing hard.
Black sat down hard next to him, Remus couldn’t help but flinch and Black flinched in return. Remus stared at his hands, and Black stared at the far wall.
“Just kill me.” The werewolf pleaded in a small voice.
The answer was stiff, but also pleading in its own way, “There is only one I want to kill.”
Remus’s head jerked up, his hands flying to the sides of the bed, gripping it tightly, “I won’t let you kill Harry.” Remus grabbed Black’s dirty robes, his hands shaking with the effort. “I won’t.”
Black stiffened under Remus’s hands as if burned. A skull-like face twisted around to stare with eyes sunken within their sockets. “I would never kill Harry.” Black nearly snarled.
Remus just gripped the disgusting cloth tighter, making it so Black couldn’t move but to tear the robes.
“I…” Black shifted his grey eyes to the bed, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m not here to kill Harry.” A gasping and harsh laugh broke from his throat, and Black threw his head back, “Bloody hell, I don’t even know if this is a dream or a nightmare, maybe it’s even real, but I would never kill Harry.”
The werewolf’s answer was to shift his grip to Black’s arms, hanging on tightly.
“You don’t understand,” Black gasped as if the air in his lungs had turned to fire, “He’s here.”
Grip bruising Black’s arms, Remus snarled, “You brought Voldemort with you? He’s dead!” The werewolf exclaimed hysterically, “Dead! Even you can’t raise the dead!”
The ex-prisoner gave another rasping laugh, “Not Voldemort you swot. I didn’t come here to bring anyone back. I came to finished what I started.”
“I told you, I won’t let you kill Harry, Black!” Remus shouted, his throat still rasping from the howl of last night. He pulled Black closer, finger-shaped bruises marking his once-friend’s arms.
“I’m not here to kill Harry!” Black yelled back into Remus’s face, “I’m here for him!” He shoved a piece of paper at Remus.
It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron’s shoulder, was Scabbers. (page 362)
“The Weasleys?” Remus’s grip loosened slightly as he stared at the photo. “Ron?” He sputtered, following Black’s finger. He then snarled, grip tightening again, “You’ve going to kill Harry’s best friend?” You’re going to do to him what you did to me? “It’s not enough for you to take the lives of his parents, your friends, but you’ve got to destroy what life he’s been making for himself? You sadistic--”
“No!” The ex-prisoner barked out roughly. “I didn’t-I would never-I’m not-” He took a breath as if fighting back nightmares, and by the look in his stormy eyes, that estimation wasn’t far off. He seemed to gather himself then and said in a tightly controlled voice, “Peter. I’m here to kill Peter.”
Remus’s eyes drifted to the rat on Ron’s shoulder in the photo. “My God… Peter,” he inhaled sharply, at the familiarity of the little creature, than stared at its front legs, “His front paw…”
“He’s got a toe missing,” said Black, who watched Remus intently.
“Of course,” Lupin breathed. “So simple… so brilliant… he cut it off himself?”
“Just before he transformed,” said Black. “When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself-and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…”
“The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger.” (363) Remus remembered aloud, his eyes moving to Black’s harsh face and waxy complexion.
“But then…” Remus stared at his once-friend, “…why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless” -Remus’s eyes suddenly widened, as his mind whirled on, memories flashing in his mind’s eye as he remembered the times before that faithful Halloween, “-Unless he was the one… unless you switched…without telling me?”
Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Remus’s face, Black nodded. (page 344)
Unwinding his fingers from around Black’s arms, Remus suddenly wrapped his arms around the man instead, pulling him into a tight hug.
Awkward and still-shaking arms wove their way around Remus’s middle and held him just as tightly.
“I assume you thought I was the spy then.” The werewolf rested his forehead on Sirius’s filthy, bony shoulder.
“Forgive me, Remus,” Sirius uttered, as if the words had much more meaning then just forgiving him for thinking his friend was the spy.
Remus touched the top of Sirius’s mattered and disgusting hair carefully, pulling away to see his friend’s thin face, “Not at all, Padfoot, old friend.” The corners of his mouth edged into a small smile, “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?”
“Of course,” said Sirius, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. (page 373)
Remus let his smile widen slightly, and Sirius answered with a pale smile that looked nearly painful.
The werewolf tried to shift his weight, but the adrenaline that had kept him numb to the pain racking his body was gone now and the pain wasn’t. He nearly cried out in agony, but bit his lip instead.
Sirius was there instantly, holding Remus still with his thin, but still strong arms. He carefully lowered Remus to the bed, using a curtain from one of the boarded up windows to cover him.
Then Sirius was Padfoot and the huge black dog huddled close to the wounded werewolf, sharing warmth and doggy sober.
After a length of time, Remus felt himself begin to drift back to unconsciousness. The extra warmth from Padfoot was enough to relax some of his sore muscles and numb away some of the pain from his injuries.
Padfoot suddenly perked his head up, ears twisting towards the tunnel door.
“Poppy…” Remus muttered, not wanting to waken himself too much, “Yo’ll ge’t in t’ouble Pa’foo’.” He nuzzled his head back into the pillow, but winced as the comfortable warmth left him. Doggy nails clicking against the wood floor as Padfoot trotted away.
He was just drifting off again as he heard the door open.
--
It was after Remus woke again that he realized that Sirius might have just been lying.
The thought kept him from drifting back to sleep, even when that’s all he wanted to do.
--
Remus found that Snape had apparently caused quite enough turmoil in his classes while he had been ‘ill’
He quickly assured the class “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to Professor Snape. You don’t have to do the essay.”
Although from the middle of the classroom, a cry when up. “Oh no,” said Hermione, looking very disappointed. “I’ve already finished it!”
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but-
“Wait a moment, Harry and Ron.” Remus called, “I’d like a word.”
Harry and Ron doubled back and watched Remus covering the hinkypunk’s box with a cloth.
Hermione waited by the doorway, watching her two friends as they wandered over to their professor.
Remus looked from one boy to the other, “Ron, do you happen to have your pet rat on you?”
Ron looked intensely confused, but he pulled a frantic Scabbers out of his pocket. The rat flipped out, scratching Ron in attempt to escape. “Ow! What the hell, Scabbers! There’s no Crookshanks around!” Ron yelped, holding the rat tightly, “That damned cat has got poor Scabbers so freaked out…” He seemed to remember Remus standing there and added, “Sorry, Professor Lupin. He’s just scaried of Hermione’s cat. Crookshanks has been chasing him all around.”
Hermione let out a snort and rolled her eyes.
Remus nodded solemnly and reached for a jar he had on the corner of his desk. He had spelled the jar beforehand against escape. “Well, I was going to ask whether I could borrow your rat-Scabbers, was it?-for a bit. And I was thinking that maybe Harry would like to come along with me to Dumbledore’s office?” He peered at the two of them, “We could have tea together.” He added as an afterthought.
The two students seemed very confused, and Ron hesitated. “What are you going to do to him?”
Remus eyed the rat with a carefully neutral expression, “Would you like to come with us to Dumbledore’s office then too?”
Scabbers squealed and bit down on Ron’s hand, causing him to drop the rat, but Remus alright had the jar under him. Remus quickly snapped the lid shut, wrinkling his nose at the creature inside before seeming to remember Ron and Harry watching him and steeling his expression again.
“Scabbers is ill, don’t hurt him!” Ron exclaimed reaching for the jar.
Remus thought quickly, “Don’t worry, I’m just working out a theory. If my theory is wrong, Scabbers won’t be hurt at all.”
“And if it’s right?” Harry frowned at his Professor.
“If my theory is right, you’re going to want a new rat, Ron.” He said coolly.
Hermione strode over then, “What sort of answer is that?” she was looking at Remus oddly.
Ron and Harry looked at one another. Their professor was acting very strangely.
Harry gave Remus had odd look, “Did you drink another one of Snape’s potions?”
Remus chuckled, “No, Harry. Look, I promise I won’t harm anyone’s pet rat.”
Ron seemed settled by that and nodded, Harry gave Remus a searching look, but nodded.
Hermione crossed her arms, “Well if you two are going, I want to come too.”
Remus nodded to her and the two boys and girl followed Remus, who held the jar securely in his arms, to Dumbledore’s office.
--
Remus stared when he had reached Dumbledore’s office.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered to himself.
Padfoot just wagged his tail in reply.
Dumbledore patted the huge dog’s head as he sat in his chair, “Oh hello, Remus, Harry, and Ron.”
Padfoot stood and began towards Harry, but Remus shot him a stern look and the dog curled up beside Dumbledore again instead.
“Remus, I suspect you know who this is already.” Dumbledore smiled lightly, but when his eyes caught Remus’s, Remus gasped.
Remus had never felt his Occlumency defenses brushed aside in such a manner. “Y-yes.”
Dumbledore just continued smiling. “Ah, I see we have a few other things to talk about as well.”
Remus closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he kept them on the floor. He strode over and placed the jar, with the now completely terrified rat in it, on Dumbledore’s desk. “Shall I perform the spell now, Headmaster?”
Dumbledore turned his eyes on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who stood at the doorway, looking unsure and rather confused.
Remus followed the Headmaster’s gaze and said, “Harry, Ron, Hermione, if you don’t want to stay, I won’t make you. This next part probably won’t be too pleasant.”
Ron looked defiant. “You said you wouldn’t hurt Scabbers!”
Remus smiled but didn’t reply.
Harry looked from person to person, his gaze finally resting on Padfoot by Dumbledore’s feet. “I… I think I’d like to know what’s going on, professor.” He said quietly.
Hermione watched Remus with a suspicious look, “I agree with Harry.” She said.
Dumbledore looked from one face to the other, “Alright then.”
--
[don't even ask me to finish this]
--
A/N: Just don't ask. Seriously. Just don't. It STARTED as a joke. I SWEAR.