James Potter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alotofgood) wrote2011-01-08 11:56 pm
alotofgood) wrote2011-01-08 11:56 pm
Entry tags:
008. 15 february 1976.
February 15, 1976 — 23:21 hours.
Hogwarts, Scotland.
Whomping Willow, The Shrieking Shack, Hogwarts Grounds
It's gotten a bit easier, with every full moon.
James, Sirius and Peter gather on the Hogwarts grounds by the Whomping Willow, James watching the clouds part ways to reveal the large, silvery white orb hanging in the sky; Sirius watching the Willow flailing its great, dangerous arms about as though it were stretching its muscles, ready for the night's intruders.
Peter has his eyes trained on the knot in the tree. He's the first one to start, the one with the smallest transformation.
Far away, James can hear the distant call of a wolf.
All three boys meet eyes.
"Wormtail," prompts James.
Peter nods.
---
It's his mind that must go first, absorbing the world around him and taking it into himself. His arms and legs follow afterward, his body twisting and adjusting to the change.
(Welcoming it.)
It's a dangerous thing, being an Animagus. Every time he makes the change, he reminds himself that one moment longer lost in nature, and he could lose himself in his form, forgetting who he is. Every time, he must draw the boy out again, just enough so he knows who he is (James Potter) and what he's meant to do (Find Remus Lupin).
In the shadow of the moon, where once a tall, lanky boy stood, now he peers down at the trampled snow and notes the silhouette of great antlers.
His sense of smell is clearer; his hearing is sharper. He notes every crunch of ice and snow beneath the rat's feet, the harsh breathing of the black dog to his left, the wind rustling through the twigs on the Willow's branches, the fall of needles from nearby pines. He smells the chill of winter, the scent of wet, musky fur (and his heart pounds quicker, fighting against his instinct to run — because the dog is Sirius and Sirius is not a danger) and the scent of pine trees.
Prongs stomps a hoof, inclines his head towards the large black dog by his side, and watches the small rat scurrying forward — nose ever twitching — as he heads straight towards the Whomping Willow.
Suddenly, the tree freezes, all its limbs suspended in motion. There's a quiet skittering and Wormtail emerges from the dip by the tree, a large dark tunnel open and waiting for them.
The black dog barks (Let's go) and the stag bows his head (Right behind you).
Together, an unlikely pack, they descend.
---
For years, Moony has been coming to this place. He never told them why, exactly, or when Dumbledore decided it was a good idea — no matter how much the other boys tried to pester him about it.
In the end, they relented. This was still Moony's secret, and it was his secret to keep — but Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail assured him he didn't have to bear all of it alone. Through a great deal of trouble and an incident when Sirius nearly lost his mind to the big black dog, they made it clear they would, at the very least, always be there.
And as they enter the Shrieking Shack from the underground tunnel, there, indeed, they are.
Moony stands up on his haunches, teeth bared and eyes narrowed — feral.
Padfoot steps forward, large yellow lamp-eyes staring back.
(Hullo, Moony.
It's us. Your friends.)
But Prongs knows just as well as the others do that when Moony is a werewolf, their shy, moralistic friend no longer exists.
With sharp claws and skinny limbs, the werewolf leaps forward.
There's nothing new about this. Padfoot intercepts Moony, and for a moment, there's a loud, wild scuffle. Padfoot whines as Moony's long, thin arm grips him in a hold, teeth bared for a killing bite; but with a powerful kick backwards, he is thrown off and forced against the floorboards with a clatter. This goes on for a few minutes more until Moony lands in the corner of the room. Then claws scratch against the wood and Moony resumes his composure, snarling.
He studies them with dark, black eyes.
Sniffs them.
Judges his role in the pack.
(I am leader.)
They've reached an end.
Prongs bows his head.
Wormtail waits, nose twitching anxiously.
Padfoot whines, ears pressed against his head.
Then, a split second later, Moony charges forward, across rickety floorboards, back through the underground tunnel.
(Follow me.)
---
They keep an eye on him; that's been their reason for doing this.
Remus had always been afraid of what he was capable of doing, of the innocent people he could harm while never remembering a moment of it. When his wild blood took over, Remus lost all trace of himself. He became that wild wolf, hungry for flesh.
He didn't want to hurt anyone, he told them.
As long as Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail stayed with him, he never would.
They promised.
---
The night passes quickly, the moon making its arc across the sky before the faintest shade of orange starts to creep across the horizon, touching the tips of the mountains in the distance.
Moony has led them through the forest, raced Padfoot across the snowy grounds by the trees — always by the trees, away from the castle — and has made a bloody dinner of an unsuspecting rabbit.
By the time Moony leads them back to the Shack, Prongs allows himself to feel relief that tonight has gone as well as it could have. Moony isn't always so cooperative; he isn't always ready to do much more than attack them. They have, since September, had to earn his trust. Slow, but sure, Prongs thinks they're getting there.
He knows they'll likely never reach Remus Lupin from within that werewolf's mind, but reaching Moony is better than nothing at all.
---
Three boys collapse against the snow at a fair distance from the Whomping Willow's attack-zone. 'Whompy', as he and Sirius like to call it, resumes a wild dance, branches easily swaying in the air.
They're in nothing but their uniforms, red and gold ties, and dark trousers hanging rumpled on their thin, chilly frames.
James adjusts his glasses but keeps his eyes closed. His nose is cold.
Beside him, he can hear Sirius breathing.
Peter sighs.
"He was all right," says Sirius quite suddenly. James opens his eyes and inclines his head towards him. "Moony, I mean. Tonight he seemed ... agreeable."
"Yeah," says James. He turns back to gaze at the sky. It has brightened considerably since, and continues to do so with every passing minute.
The night is finally over.
Another month has passed, and Remus is all right.
Thank god.
"I reckon he still feels bad about yesterday," Sirius continues.
James is too tired to groan. "Don't remind me."
Sirius pats him.
Long moments later, when the sun has already risen a fair amount, Remus joins them, rubbing his eyes.
James is really effing cold, and he can't stop shivering. He wishes he'd brought a cloak or three. He can tell Sirius feels the same way, his shoulders tense and slightly hunched inwards.
But they wait for Remus, like they do every month, so they could collectively make their way back to the castle.
"All right, Moony?" asks James, rubbing his hands.
Peter sneezes.
"You lot look cold," Remus serenely observes.
"Oh, shut up," snaps Sirius. His teeth chatter, betraying his murderous growl.
Remus smiles. From within his robes, he grabs his wand and waves it in their direction, muttering a spell James recognizes as a warming charm.
The effect is instantaneous on their energy levels and their moods.
Then together, the Marauders take the well-trodden path back up to the castle.
Hogwarts, Scotland.
Whomping Willow, The Shrieking Shack, Hogwarts Grounds
It's gotten a bit easier, with every full moon.
James, Sirius and Peter gather on the Hogwarts grounds by the Whomping Willow, James watching the clouds part ways to reveal the large, silvery white orb hanging in the sky; Sirius watching the Willow flailing its great, dangerous arms about as though it were stretching its muscles, ready for the night's intruders.
Peter has his eyes trained on the knot in the tree. He's the first one to start, the one with the smallest transformation.
Far away, James can hear the distant call of a wolf.
All three boys meet eyes.
"Wormtail," prompts James.
Peter nods.
---
It's his mind that must go first, absorbing the world around him and taking it into himself. His arms and legs follow afterward, his body twisting and adjusting to the change.
(Welcoming it.)
It's a dangerous thing, being an Animagus. Every time he makes the change, he reminds himself that one moment longer lost in nature, and he could lose himself in his form, forgetting who he is. Every time, he must draw the boy out again, just enough so he knows who he is (James Potter) and what he's meant to do (Find Remus Lupin).
In the shadow of the moon, where once a tall, lanky boy stood, now he peers down at the trampled snow and notes the silhouette of great antlers.
His sense of smell is clearer; his hearing is sharper. He notes every crunch of ice and snow beneath the rat's feet, the harsh breathing of the black dog to his left, the wind rustling through the twigs on the Willow's branches, the fall of needles from nearby pines. He smells the chill of winter, the scent of wet, musky fur (and his heart pounds quicker, fighting against his instinct to run — because the dog is Sirius and Sirius is not a danger) and the scent of pine trees.
Prongs stomps a hoof, inclines his head towards the large black dog by his side, and watches the small rat scurrying forward — nose ever twitching — as he heads straight towards the Whomping Willow.
Suddenly, the tree freezes, all its limbs suspended in motion. There's a quiet skittering and Wormtail emerges from the dip by the tree, a large dark tunnel open and waiting for them.
The black dog barks (Let's go) and the stag bows his head (Right behind you).
Together, an unlikely pack, they descend.
---
For years, Moony has been coming to this place. He never told them why, exactly, or when Dumbledore decided it was a good idea — no matter how much the other boys tried to pester him about it.
In the end, they relented. This was still Moony's secret, and it was his secret to keep — but Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail assured him he didn't have to bear all of it alone. Through a great deal of trouble and an incident when Sirius nearly lost his mind to the big black dog, they made it clear they would, at the very least, always be there.
And as they enter the Shrieking Shack from the underground tunnel, there, indeed, they are.
Moony stands up on his haunches, teeth bared and eyes narrowed — feral.
Padfoot steps forward, large yellow lamp-eyes staring back.
(Hullo, Moony.
It's us. Your friends.)
But Prongs knows just as well as the others do that when Moony is a werewolf, their shy, moralistic friend no longer exists.
With sharp claws and skinny limbs, the werewolf leaps forward.
There's nothing new about this. Padfoot intercepts Moony, and for a moment, there's a loud, wild scuffle. Padfoot whines as Moony's long, thin arm grips him in a hold, teeth bared for a killing bite; but with a powerful kick backwards, he is thrown off and forced against the floorboards with a clatter. This goes on for a few minutes more until Moony lands in the corner of the room. Then claws scratch against the wood and Moony resumes his composure, snarling.
He studies them with dark, black eyes.
Sniffs them.
Judges his role in the pack.
(I am leader.)
They've reached an end.
Prongs bows his head.
Wormtail waits, nose twitching anxiously.
Padfoot whines, ears pressed against his head.
Then, a split second later, Moony charges forward, across rickety floorboards, back through the underground tunnel.
(Follow me.)
---
They keep an eye on him; that's been their reason for doing this.
Remus had always been afraid of what he was capable of doing, of the innocent people he could harm while never remembering a moment of it. When his wild blood took over, Remus lost all trace of himself. He became that wild wolf, hungry for flesh.
He didn't want to hurt anyone, he told them.
As long as Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail stayed with him, he never would.
They promised.
---
The night passes quickly, the moon making its arc across the sky before the faintest shade of orange starts to creep across the horizon, touching the tips of the mountains in the distance.
Moony has led them through the forest, raced Padfoot across the snowy grounds by the trees — always by the trees, away from the castle — and has made a bloody dinner of an unsuspecting rabbit.
By the time Moony leads them back to the Shack, Prongs allows himself to feel relief that tonight has gone as well as it could have. Moony isn't always so cooperative; he isn't always ready to do much more than attack them. They have, since September, had to earn his trust. Slow, but sure, Prongs thinks they're getting there.
He knows they'll likely never reach Remus Lupin from within that werewolf's mind, but reaching Moony is better than nothing at all.
---
Three boys collapse against the snow at a fair distance from the Whomping Willow's attack-zone. 'Whompy', as he and Sirius like to call it, resumes a wild dance, branches easily swaying in the air.
They're in nothing but their uniforms, red and gold ties, and dark trousers hanging rumpled on their thin, chilly frames.
James adjusts his glasses but keeps his eyes closed. His nose is cold.
Beside him, he can hear Sirius breathing.
Peter sighs.
"He was all right," says Sirius quite suddenly. James opens his eyes and inclines his head towards him. "Moony, I mean. Tonight he seemed ... agreeable."
"Yeah," says James. He turns back to gaze at the sky. It has brightened considerably since, and continues to do so with every passing minute.
The night is finally over.
Another month has passed, and Remus is all right.
Thank god.
"I reckon he still feels bad about yesterday," Sirius continues.
James is too tired to groan. "Don't remind me."
Sirius pats him.
Long moments later, when the sun has already risen a fair amount, Remus joins them, rubbing his eyes.
James is really effing cold, and he can't stop shivering. He wishes he'd brought a cloak or three. He can tell Sirius feels the same way, his shoulders tense and slightly hunched inwards.
But they wait for Remus, like they do every month, so they could collectively make their way back to the castle.
"All right, Moony?" asks James, rubbing his hands.
Peter sneezes.
"You lot look cold," Remus serenely observes.
"Oh, shut up," snaps Sirius. His teeth chatter, betraying his murderous growl.
Remus smiles. From within his robes, he grabs his wand and waves it in their direction, muttering a spell James recognizes as a warming charm.
The effect is instantaneous on their energy levels and their moods.
Then together, the Marauders take the well-trodden path back up to the castle.