Mischief Managed!

11.

"Where have you been?" Sirius hissed as James slipped out from beneath his invisibility cloak to join the Marauders in the seventh year dorm.

James shrugged. "Busy, sorry. I got here as soon as I could."

Sirius frowned. "Nice commitment, mate. Anyway, Moony left about an hour ago so we've got to hurry if we want to catch him."

The grounds were eerily quiet as the boys made their way across the grassy slopes toward the Whomping Willow. The lake glowed in the moonlight, still and silent and glassy. A breeze ruffled through the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and somewhere not too distant something moved about the undergrowth. When they arrived within 10 yards of the tree, which was contentedly still and silent, Peter transformed from beneath the cloak and dashed off to hit the tree root which would freeze the willow's wrath. That done, James and Sirius slipped out from beneath the cloak, which James folded and placed snugly hidden amongst the tree roots, before setting off down the tunnel.

"Hello," Remus greeted them shakily as they entered single file into the Shack, always cautious. Remus' skin was tinged a particularly greyish colour, and his skin was damp with sweat.

"I think you'd better trans- ERGGGHHHH!"

James flinched involuntarily at his friend's howl of pain. He looked away, unable to bear the sight of Remus' transformation, even though he'd seen it many times before. Remus' body would freeze, and then all at once his limbs would elongate, looking as though they threatened to tear his skin. His skin… grey increasingly greyer, and sprouted patchy grey tufts of hair. His skull would lengthen until it was all angles, very sharp, and resembled nothing of the kind, gentle boy James knew was trapped inside. And his eyes…. Remus' wonderfully soulful eyes transformed into hard golden stones with pinpricked pupils, glinting with malice.

With a thought, James too transformed. The stag within him panicked, as always, at the claustrophobic nature of the shack. James felt a paw on his shoulder, and turned to regard Sirius, a great, shaggy black dog with sparkling, deep black eyes, who was watching him solemnly.

There wasn't a lot of time for solemn understanding however… the werewolf was released. He sat, panting on the hearthrug, and staring at the dog, stag and rat in a rather confused fashion. It wasn't that he was interested in eating them. It was more a question of what they were doing there.

Seeing Remus like this inevitably caused the boys to experience a sharp pang of sadness. He obviously didn't recognise them. Nor would he recall their inevitable adventure the following morning. Remus received small consolation in the outrageous and oft-exaggerated tales of their escapades the following morning as he recovered.

Thankfully, there was one time that Remus would never remember. It was enough that he had to deal with the possibility that he would have harmed Snape.

The werewolf was still looking toward the stag, dog and rat questioningly. He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. Clearly displeased by the stale, musty smell of the shack, he whined.

Sirius and James exchanged a nod and approached him. Remus panted, still unsure of what to make of them. He sniffed again, then grinned a wolfish grin, recognizing their smell. Remus stood up and wagged his tail, ready for another adventure. Sirius padded toward the door and stood on his hind legs, turning the handle with his paws…

Several gruelling hours later, as the door to the Shrieking Shack closed, Sirius, James and Peter transformed back into themselves. With their animagi forms disappeared the numerous cuts and bruises that had been carved across their bodies during the night. Weary, the three exchanged a look of exhaustion before retreating down the passageway.