OF WOLF AND MAN (PG) BY IAMSHADOW - Chapter Three: A Taste of Fear
Title: Of Wolf and Man - Chapter Three: A Taste of Fear
Chapter: 3/?
Author: iamshadow
Ship: Remus/Sirius
Word Count This Chapter: 1,916
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst. WIP.
Summary: Remus meets Harry sooner than he expected, and under very different circumstances.
A/N: This chapter contains dialogue and situations originally created by and belonging by copyright to JK Rowling. Some lines of dialogue are taken and used verbatim from Chapter Five (The Dementor) of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (p. 93-99 of the Bloomsbury adult cover pbk edition). However, the arrangement and descriptive passages surrounding any copyrighted dialogue, and any additional dialogue not contained in JK Rowling's work, is my own.
This is a Work in Progress. Please don't let the fact that it's incomplete put you off. I am a comment and concrit whore, and your feedback will be the thing that spurs me on to finish this beast.
I finished the twelfth part of this story (where I had been writer's blocked for a months and a half) last night! So hopefully the drought has broken and it'll be smoother sailing from here to the end of PoA. Only a handful of chapters left to write!
Chapter List HERE
For as children tremble and fear everything in the blind darkness, so we in the light sometimes fear what is no more to be feared than the things children in the dark hold in terror and imagine will come true.
LUCRETIUS
Where are you going, stream?
Far, far away.
Take me with you, stream.
Take me on your dark journey.
Lord Frith, take me far away, to the hearts of light.
The silence. I give you my breath.
My life. The silence.
RICHARD ADAMS, Watership Down (1978 film) adapted from the book (Ch16).
I woke to the sounds of frightened children chattering in the dark. Despite still being far from well, the lingering wolfish senses allowed me to become instantly alert, and aware. We were not yet at our destination, and the air was thick with the pungent scent of fear. Whispered voices and shrill, nervous giggles echoed up and down the corridor... but there was something else. Something very wrong, right on the edge of my senses. Something dangerous.
"Quiet," I said, and instantly the other occupants of the compartment hushed. I wordlessly conjured bluebell flames into my hand.
I could smell it now; stagnant water, rotting flesh. Hear the death rattle.
Slowly standing, I held the flames before me like a torch. "Stay where you are," I rasped, my throat raw from the night before, but even as I said it, I knew the words were useless. It was already here.
Icy cold flooded the compartment. The children shrank back instinctively; I heard a boy moan, a young girl's whimper of fear. Every impulse told me to do the same, but I forced myself to stand firm. The Dementor breathed; a long, shuddering inhalation, tasting the air. It showed no signs of moving on. The moment seemed to stretch out, and it took yet another of those horrible sucking gasps, savouring, with an obscene pleasure, the terror it was inducing.
One child slid from the seat to lie unconscious, limbs jerking, on the floor. This had gone too far. Regardless of the Ministry's edict, I'd be damned if I stood by and watched the filthy things feed on the children they were supposed to be guarding. Stepping carefully over the fallen child, I faced the Dark creature, and spoke with a steadiness that was at odds with my own fear. "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."
I reached down deep within myself; beneath the fear and the pain, and grasped hold of a shining memory. Thick hair beneath my fingers... his eyes on mine, wondering... The Patronus burst from my wand.
Immediately, everyone in the carriage took a deep breath, as though suddenly the air was easier to breathe. When I was sure it was gone, I knelt at the side of the boy on the floor. Harry. Of course it was him. I sighed, and pushed his fringe back, revealing his lightning scar, to feel the clammy skin of his forehead. At least the convulsions had stopped with the departure of the Dementor. We were both of us too fragile for this.
"Is he going to die?" quavered a tiny voice, as the first of the carriage lights flickered back to life. Four pale faces hovered above me. The red headed boy and brown haired girl looked shaken but alright; however the boy with the oddly familiar round face looked distinctly ill, and the red haired girl - sister to the first boy? - who had spoken was trembling violently and looked on the verge of collapsing herself.
"No, he's just fainted," I reassured them, at which they all looked relieved. The compartment gave a sharp jerk, reminiscent of a Portkey, and the train slowly, squealing and groaning, began to move again, chuffing hard to build up speed. Turning to the girl and boy who were the steadiest, I asked, "Will you two try and wake him, please? I need to get something from my suitcase." The brunette nodded, her mouth firming into a line, and I was momentarily impressed by her cool head.
Straightening up, I faced the red haired girl, who was still shivering, clearly terrified. She looked younger than the others. "I want you to sit back for me. If you feel dizzy, put your head down between your knees or lie across the seat, alright?" She nodded, and shrank back into the corner, tucking her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly.
When I glanced towards the other boy, he quickly murmured, "I'm okay."
"Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded, swallowing hard. Though he still looked sick, and his eyes were frightened, his jaw was set firmly in a mannerism I instantly knew but couldn't place. Now wasn't the time for puzzling it out, though.
As I opened my suitcase and reached in, I could hear that the brown haired girl had progressed from calling Harry's name and shaking him firmly to the time-honoured remedy of slapping him sharply across the face, and I winced in sympathy. It seemed to be reaping results, however, as by the time I had turned and sat down on the seat above the trio, Harry was moaning softly.
"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?" she cried.
Harry grimaced and pushed her hand away from his now flaming cheek, mumbling, "W-what?" His eyes opened slowly, blinking at the light, obviously confused and disoriented at finding himself on the floor. The two others took an arm each, lifting him back onto the seat with an effort. Now that the colour in Harry's offended cheek was fading, he looked shockingly white. I began to unwrap the paper packet in my hands.
"Are you okay?" the red haired boy asked, tremulously. It was the first time he'd said a word.
"Yeah," Harry replied, and his voice shook, too. "What happened? Where's that... that thing? Who screamed?"
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
"No one screamed," the red headed boy responded, the quaver more pronounced. There was an awkward pause.
"But I heard screaming - " Harry started to insist.
I began to break up the chocolate and all five of them startled as if I'd set off a firework. I handed Harry a sizable chunk. "Here. Eat it. It'll help." I turned to the girl in the corner, holding out an equally large piece. She took it tentatively, her huge eyes watching me closely.
"What was that thing?" Harry asked, directly.
I continued handing pieces to the other three children, who murmured polite thanks. "A Dementor. One of the Dementors of Azkaban," I answered, as matter-of-factly as I could. The compartment became silent as a tomb, all eyes fixed on me. Stuffing the paper wrapping into my pocket, I insisted as patiently as I could, "Eat. It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me... "
I left and started up the corridor. The silence broke in my wake, the brown haired girl again asking Harry if he was okay. As I walked, I placed the last sliver of chocolate onto my tongue, and felt its warmth suffuse me. It wasn't much, but it would be enough until we reached our destination.
There was chatter and mayhem the length of the train, but much of it had a forced, unnatural air. Many of the students, especially the Prefects at the front of the train, looked subdued. It bade ill for the coming year. Hogwarts and its surrounds would be guarded by not one, but many of the creatures.
I borrowed the Emergency Owl from the driver to send a message ahead to the school. If my report of the incident was more vehement than it would have been at other times, I did not much care. It was factual, and it didn't contain the language that I was currently storing away for use should Cornelius Fudge be waiting by strange chance on the platform at Hogsmeade when we arrived. I somehow doubted it, but crafting perfect sentences with the maximum number of profanities was strangely satisfying, and this occupied me for much of the walk back.
The atmosphere in the compartment at the end of the train was gloomy when I entered, and I hesitated in the doorway, allowing a wry smile to quirk my lips. "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."
There were an assortment of guilty expressions, and they all began to eat. Harry almost instantly lost a little of his pallor, and he blinked in surprise. "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," I continued, then asked, "Are you all right, Harry?"
The boy flushed scarlet with embarrassment, mumbling, "Fine," to his lap. I silently cursed my ineptitude. Harry was used to relying upon himself. His reaction to the Dementor, in front of his friends - what to him must seem such obvious weakness, or even cowardice - must have been humiliating. To continue to fuss would be adding insult to injury. I backed off, biting back the kind words and reassurances that leapt too readily to my lips. They would have to wait for another day, and a less public venue. I sat down, an uncomfortable guest in this solemn little party. I was only too happy to leave when we pulled into Hogsmeade a seemingly interminable time later.
I had thought that I could distance myself from Harry for the rest of the evening, give us both time to recover. However, the moment I stepped from my Thestral-drawn carriage outside the castle, the sound of mocking voices and sniggers drew my attention to a trio of boys in Slytherin robes clustered around Harry and his friends.
“Shove off, Malfoy,” the red-haired boy was saying angrily.
“Did you faint as well, Weasley? Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?” the pale Slytherin boy continued with malicious glee.
“Is there a problem?” I cut in.
The Malfoy boy looked me up and down, as if I had accosted him on the street, begging for spare change. His disdain was evident. “Oh, no - er - Professor,” he sneered, leading his posse away.
I was careful to give Harry a wide berth as I made my way inside.
The feast revived me and tired me further in equal measures. I flushed a little at the enthusiastic welcome from the handful of Gryffindors I had travelled with. Harry was among them, and I felt a little touch of relief that I hadn't humiliated him beyond repair. The food was excellent, and I ate my fill, knowing I would need my strength to be able to teach in the morning.
But on the downside, the din was incredible and the mixed aromas cloying so soon after the Change. The presence of so many people made me feel claustrophobic when I was used to none but my own company. And I could sense Severus's eyes on me the whole time, his undisguised rage and resentment palpable even from the other end of the table.
After hastily eating a slice of chocolate pudding for dessert, I made my apologies and departed for my new quarters and for bed. Finally lying between thick, cool sheets, allowing the fatigue of the last few days to overtake me, I firmly tried to push aside Harry's confused voice in my head, Who screamed? ... I heard screaming... and the knowledge that the memory that had helped to conjure my Patronus was the face of the man the Dementor was there to seek.
<- 2. Ghosts That Walk )O( 4. The Clothes Maketh The Man ->
Chapter: 3/?
Author: iamshadow
Ship: Remus/Sirius
Word Count This Chapter: 1,916
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst. WIP.
Summary: Remus meets Harry sooner than he expected, and under very different circumstances.
A/N: This chapter contains dialogue and situations originally created by and belonging by copyright to JK Rowling. Some lines of dialogue are taken and used verbatim from Chapter Five (The Dementor) of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (p. 93-99 of the Bloomsbury adult cover pbk edition). However, the arrangement and descriptive passages surrounding any copyrighted dialogue, and any additional dialogue not contained in JK Rowling's work, is my own.
This is a Work in Progress. Please don't let the fact that it's incomplete put you off. I am a comment and concrit whore, and your feedback will be the thing that spurs me on to finish this beast.
I finished the twelfth part of this story (where I had been writer's blocked for a months and a half) last night! So hopefully the drought has broken and it'll be smoother sailing from here to the end of PoA. Only a handful of chapters left to write!
Chapter List HERE
For as children tremble and fear everything in the blind darkness, so we in the light sometimes fear what is no more to be feared than the things children in the dark hold in terror and imagine will come true.
LUCRETIUS
Where are you going, stream?
Far, far away.
Take me with you, stream.
Take me on your dark journey.
Lord Frith, take me far away, to the hearts of light.
The silence. I give you my breath.
My life. The silence.
RICHARD ADAMS, Watership Down (1978 film) adapted from the book (Ch16).
I woke to the sounds of frightened children chattering in the dark. Despite still being far from well, the lingering wolfish senses allowed me to become instantly alert, and aware. We were not yet at our destination, and the air was thick with the pungent scent of fear. Whispered voices and shrill, nervous giggles echoed up and down the corridor... but there was something else. Something very wrong, right on the edge of my senses. Something dangerous.
"Quiet," I said, and instantly the other occupants of the compartment hushed. I wordlessly conjured bluebell flames into my hand.
I could smell it now; stagnant water, rotting flesh. Hear the death rattle.
Slowly standing, I held the flames before me like a torch. "Stay where you are," I rasped, my throat raw from the night before, but even as I said it, I knew the words were useless. It was already here.
Icy cold flooded the compartment. The children shrank back instinctively; I heard a boy moan, a young girl's whimper of fear. Every impulse told me to do the same, but I forced myself to stand firm. The Dementor breathed; a long, shuddering inhalation, tasting the air. It showed no signs of moving on. The moment seemed to stretch out, and it took yet another of those horrible sucking gasps, savouring, with an obscene pleasure, the terror it was inducing.
One child slid from the seat to lie unconscious, limbs jerking, on the floor. This had gone too far. Regardless of the Ministry's edict, I'd be damned if I stood by and watched the filthy things feed on the children they were supposed to be guarding. Stepping carefully over the fallen child, I faced the Dark creature, and spoke with a steadiness that was at odds with my own fear. "None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."
I reached down deep within myself; beneath the fear and the pain, and grasped hold of a shining memory. Thick hair beneath my fingers... his eyes on mine, wondering... The Patronus burst from my wand.
Immediately, everyone in the carriage took a deep breath, as though suddenly the air was easier to breathe. When I was sure it was gone, I knelt at the side of the boy on the floor. Harry. Of course it was him. I sighed, and pushed his fringe back, revealing his lightning scar, to feel the clammy skin of his forehead. At least the convulsions had stopped with the departure of the Dementor. We were both of us too fragile for this.
"Is he going to die?" quavered a tiny voice, as the first of the carriage lights flickered back to life. Four pale faces hovered above me. The red headed boy and brown haired girl looked shaken but alright; however the boy with the oddly familiar round face looked distinctly ill, and the red haired girl - sister to the first boy? - who had spoken was trembling violently and looked on the verge of collapsing herself.
"No, he's just fainted," I reassured them, at which they all looked relieved. The compartment gave a sharp jerk, reminiscent of a Portkey, and the train slowly, squealing and groaning, began to move again, chuffing hard to build up speed. Turning to the girl and boy who were the steadiest, I asked, "Will you two try and wake him, please? I need to get something from my suitcase." The brunette nodded, her mouth firming into a line, and I was momentarily impressed by her cool head.
Straightening up, I faced the red haired girl, who was still shivering, clearly terrified. She looked younger than the others. "I want you to sit back for me. If you feel dizzy, put your head down between your knees or lie across the seat, alright?" She nodded, and shrank back into the corner, tucking her knees up to her chest and hugging them tightly.
When I glanced towards the other boy, he quickly murmured, "I'm okay."
"Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded, swallowing hard. Though he still looked sick, and his eyes were frightened, his jaw was set firmly in a mannerism I instantly knew but couldn't place. Now wasn't the time for puzzling it out, though.
As I opened my suitcase and reached in, I could hear that the brown haired girl had progressed from calling Harry's name and shaking him firmly to the time-honoured remedy of slapping him sharply across the face, and I winced in sympathy. It seemed to be reaping results, however, as by the time I had turned and sat down on the seat above the trio, Harry was moaning softly.
"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?" she cried.
Harry grimaced and pushed her hand away from his now flaming cheek, mumbling, "W-what?" His eyes opened slowly, blinking at the light, obviously confused and disoriented at finding himself on the floor. The two others took an arm each, lifting him back onto the seat with an effort. Now that the colour in Harry's offended cheek was fading, he looked shockingly white. I began to unwrap the paper packet in my hands.
"Are you okay?" the red haired boy asked, tremulously. It was the first time he'd said a word.
"Yeah," Harry replied, and his voice shook, too. "What happened? Where's that... that thing? Who screamed?"
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
"No one screamed," the red headed boy responded, the quaver more pronounced. There was an awkward pause.
"But I heard screaming - " Harry started to insist.
I began to break up the chocolate and all five of them startled as if I'd set off a firework. I handed Harry a sizable chunk. "Here. Eat it. It'll help." I turned to the girl in the corner, holding out an equally large piece. She took it tentatively, her huge eyes watching me closely.
"What was that thing?" Harry asked, directly.
I continued handing pieces to the other three children, who murmured polite thanks. "A Dementor. One of the Dementors of Azkaban," I answered, as matter-of-factly as I could. The compartment became silent as a tomb, all eyes fixed on me. Stuffing the paper wrapping into my pocket, I insisted as patiently as I could, "Eat. It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me... "
I left and started up the corridor. The silence broke in my wake, the brown haired girl again asking Harry if he was okay. As I walked, I placed the last sliver of chocolate onto my tongue, and felt its warmth suffuse me. It wasn't much, but it would be enough until we reached our destination.
There was chatter and mayhem the length of the train, but much of it had a forced, unnatural air. Many of the students, especially the Prefects at the front of the train, looked subdued. It bade ill for the coming year. Hogwarts and its surrounds would be guarded by not one, but many of the creatures.
I borrowed the Emergency Owl from the driver to send a message ahead to the school. If my report of the incident was more vehement than it would have been at other times, I did not much care. It was factual, and it didn't contain the language that I was currently storing away for use should Cornelius Fudge be waiting by strange chance on the platform at Hogsmeade when we arrived. I somehow doubted it, but crafting perfect sentences with the maximum number of profanities was strangely satisfying, and this occupied me for much of the walk back.
The atmosphere in the compartment at the end of the train was gloomy when I entered, and I hesitated in the doorway, allowing a wry smile to quirk my lips. "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."
There were an assortment of guilty expressions, and they all began to eat. Harry almost instantly lost a little of his pallor, and he blinked in surprise. "We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," I continued, then asked, "Are you all right, Harry?"
The boy flushed scarlet with embarrassment, mumbling, "Fine," to his lap. I silently cursed my ineptitude. Harry was used to relying upon himself. His reaction to the Dementor, in front of his friends - what to him must seem such obvious weakness, or even cowardice - must have been humiliating. To continue to fuss would be adding insult to injury. I backed off, biting back the kind words and reassurances that leapt too readily to my lips. They would have to wait for another day, and a less public venue. I sat down, an uncomfortable guest in this solemn little party. I was only too happy to leave when we pulled into Hogsmeade a seemingly interminable time later.
I had thought that I could distance myself from Harry for the rest of the evening, give us both time to recover. However, the moment I stepped from my Thestral-drawn carriage outside the castle, the sound of mocking voices and sniggers drew my attention to a trio of boys in Slytherin robes clustered around Harry and his friends.
“Shove off, Malfoy,” the red-haired boy was saying angrily.
“Did you faint as well, Weasley? Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?” the pale Slytherin boy continued with malicious glee.
“Is there a problem?” I cut in.
The Malfoy boy looked me up and down, as if I had accosted him on the street, begging for spare change. His disdain was evident. “Oh, no - er - Professor,” he sneered, leading his posse away.
I was careful to give Harry a wide berth as I made my way inside.
The feast revived me and tired me further in equal measures. I flushed a little at the enthusiastic welcome from the handful of Gryffindors I had travelled with. Harry was among them, and I felt a little touch of relief that I hadn't humiliated him beyond repair. The food was excellent, and I ate my fill, knowing I would need my strength to be able to teach in the morning.
But on the downside, the din was incredible and the mixed aromas cloying so soon after the Change. The presence of so many people made me feel claustrophobic when I was used to none but my own company. And I could sense Severus's eyes on me the whole time, his undisguised rage and resentment palpable even from the other end of the table.
After hastily eating a slice of chocolate pudding for dessert, I made my apologies and departed for my new quarters and for bed. Finally lying between thick, cool sheets, allowing the fatigue of the last few days to overtake me, I firmly tried to push aside Harry's confused voice in my head, Who screamed? ... I heard screaming... and the knowledge that the memory that had helped to conjure my Patronus was the face of the man the Dementor was there to seek.
<- 2. Ghosts That Walk )O( 4. The Clothes Maketh The Man ->