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The Marauders had done a lot of crazy shit over the years. They had goaded the giant squid into a fistfight with the Whomping Willow. They had flown their beds, mattress frames and all, through the hallways and had a historical debate with a furious McGonagall about whether or not they were technically breaking the rules (they won). They had charmed every single suit of armor in Hogwarts castle to sing Bohemian Rhapsody at full volume, beginning at “MAMA, OOOOOOH” whenever Filch walked by. Their detention record was legendary and their reputation even more so.
But this, this was the most batshit insane idea they had ever had.
James Potter was a lot of things: the top of his Transfiguration class, the leader of the Marauders, and a proud Gryffindor. He was a loyal son and a fierce Quidditch player. Most of all, he was a devoted friend, which meant he didn’t regret this off-the-walls, run wild, I’ll-call-your-mother-so-help-me-Merlin idea for one second.
Remus, on the other hand, appeared to be regretting their decision for them. “Do you have any clue how dangerous this is?” he hissed over breakfast, tearing into a bread roll with somewhat frightening aggression. They had told him their plan as soon as the mandrake leaves came out and the last bit of spellwork was woven into their bones, barely eight days ago now. “I mean, honestly, what were you thinking?”
“You’ve done this by yourself enough, Moony,” James said firmly, holding Remus’ gaze across the table. “We’re your friends, and we care about you, so we’ll be there to support you from here on out.”
Remus blinked rapidly, crinkled his nose up, and made a frustrated noise before shoveling more bread into his mouth. He had cried when they broke the news—they all had—but they had been happy tears. At least, James hoped they had been happy tears. “I just—you really don’t know what you’re getting into here.”
“We’re as prepared as we can be. We did our research.” Peter reached over and squeezed his shoulder in solidarity.
“Loads and loads of it,” Sirius laughed, which made James smile. Sirius was just that type of person, the one whose excitement was contagious in every situation. “You would have been proud of us. I think Madame Pince was getting suspicious.”
Remus didn’t even grin, and James’ heart sank. “Moony, if you’re worried about us, then—”
“I’m not.” Remus shook his head fervently. “Well, of course I am, but not—” His shoulders sank, like they always did when he was trying to take up as little space as possible. “It’s bad. It’s really, really bad. And—and I don’t want you to see that.”
The mood palpably shifted in their little bubble; James could feel the silliness that Sirius had tried to bring in fading. “We won’t think any less of you for it, Re,” Sirius said, uncharacteristically solemn. “We know it’s bad. That’s why we’re here to help.”
James thought back to the rapidly-growing legends about the newly-christened “Shrieking Shack” and his throat tightened. Suddenly, his breakfast tasted like sawdust in his mouth. “If you don’t want us there, we don’t have to go,” he said softly, honestly. “We’ll be waiting in the dormitory or in the hospital wing when you get back, just like always.”
Remus looked up at him and James’ heart panged. They days leading up to the full moon always took a toll on him, and it really wasn’t fair to spring something this huge on him when he was already so tired. “No,” he said at last. “No, I want you to be there. The wolf doesn’t go after other animals unless they’re rabbits or something, and rats are way too small to be worth the effort.” He mumbled something like don’t taste very good, either under his breath, which James politely ignored.
“Alright, then, it’s decided.” Sirius folded his napkin back in his lap, prim and proper without even looking at it. “We’ll go down half an hour after you do and get settled, then be back in the dorms once Pomfrey arrives, yeah? Still good?”
“Still good,” the three of them chorused. Remus blew out a long breath and straightened his tie with trembling hands, though James couldn’t tell whether the shakes came from nerves or were simply side effects of the lunar cycle that decided to fuck over his best friend’s life. Their conversation brightened considerably when the girls slid down the bench toward them and began to chat, but the heavy cloud of jumbled emotions still hung between them as the day began.
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James was just about to join Sirius and Peter in sprinting to Transfiguration when Remus caught his elbow and pulled him back, out of the main hall of rushing students and into a side hall that few frequented. He would certainly get the patented Eyebrows of Disapproval from McGonagall when he turned up late, but it hardly mattered—Remus needed him, so he would be there. “What’s up, Moony?”
“Promise me you’ll keep them safe.”
“Of course I will, I always do—”
“James. Promise me.”
James frowned slightly. He was always JP, Jamie, or, most recently, Prongs. They never called each other by their full names unless something important was going on. “Remus, you know me. I promise to keep them safe.”
“No matter what?” Remus’ eyes hardened. The normal soft brown had taken on an amber sheen over the past few days, and it was a little unsettling up close. “Once the moon rises, I’m gone until morning. The wolf won’t recognize Peter, won’t recognize Sirius, won’t recognize you. The transformation is ugly and painful and Sirius is going to want to do something noble that will get him killed. Peter will follow. Promise me that you will keep them back until the wolf is out of the shack.”
James scanned his tense expression. All the mischief and light was gone; Remus looked scared. “I promise.”
Remus nodded once, swallowed, then nodded again and released his hold. “I’ll see you at dinner?”
“ ‘course.” James tried to offer him an encouraging smile, but it fell flat and he walked to Transfiguration with a cold stone in his belly. He was going to be late anyway—there was no use in running when he already felt nauseous.
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Dinner was a quiet affair. Next to him, Sirius literally buzzed with energy, sending small prickles of accidental magic into anyone who had the misfortune of brushing against him. Peter worried at his lip so much that James had to reach over and shove a slice of bread in his mouth; well, had to was a debatable phrase, but it relieved the tension and kept poor Peter from getting a bloody lip. Remus was as pale and waxen as usual on the night of the full, barely touching his food and twitching with nerves. Eventually, they shifted around so he could lean on Sirius for the evening and leech off his furnace-like body heat.
James hardly remembered the few hours in their dormitory, stuck in the eternal limbo of what have we done and Merlin, I’m excited as the sky slowly darkened, glowing peach and lavender and gold in the way only Hogwarts could. When the time came, Remus slipped downstairs with a final glance directly at James, who nodded in confirmation. I’m here for you, he tried to say with his mind. We’ll be there for you. The slight relief on Remus’ face as he disappeared down the hall supported James’ secret theory that the four of them could read each other’s minds.
“Now what?” Sirius asked in the dead silence of the room.
“Start the clock,” Peter said, shuffling through his stack of homework for the fifth time that evening. “This time, we can’t afford to be late.”
“I’m really proud of us, you know,” James blurted a little too loud as the Muggle alarm clock on Sirius’ bed began to tick. “We pulled off really complicated magic that most adult wizards can’t do and we’re fifteen. And it only took us two tries.”
“Three,” Peter coughed, casting a look at Sirius, who elbowed him with a flicker of a grin.
“Shut it, Wormtail. Your sticking charm failed the first time, too.”
“Yeah, but at least I didn’t choke and spit mine into Marlene’s tea.” Peter couldn’t contain his giggles anymore and all three of them dissolved into laughter, too pent-up and nervous to pull themselves together. “Sweet Merlin, we’re actually doing this.”
“Yes, we are,” Sirius said, rubbing his eyes. “We’re so punk rock.”
“Do you know what punk rock even means?” James rolled onto his side to face the other two, tucking his pillow under his arm for a better angle. “Like, honestly, have you looked up the definition?”
“I am the definition,” Sirius said, calling on every bit of Black family pompousness he could muster.
“Oh, fuck off.” The pillow found a new home smushed against Sirius’ face at a high velocity.
“Should we bring anything with us?” Peter asked out of the blue as he stared up at the ceiling. “Like, do we need cloaks or food or something?”
“Considering we’ll be spending the night as a gang of woodland animals, I don’t think the cloaks are necessary,” Sirius said dryly, earning him a smack to the ribs. “Ow!”
“I meant for after, dipshit.”
James mulled over his words. “That’s not a bad idea. If I bring my Invisibility Cloak, we’ll stay out of sight when we’re leaving the castle and coming back.”
“I guess we didn’t really think about how we were going to do that, did we,” Sirius said after a moment of quiet. “My brain just kind of went straight to the Whomping Willow and not getting crushed.”
“If all else fails, we can call on the squid again,” James suggested, earning another round of laughter.
In the end, they decided not to bring anything extra with them. Madam Pomfrey would certainly have first aid supplies, as much as James hated that they would need it, and it wasn’t like they could carry anything with their Animagus forms. A thrill rushed through his every nerve as he thought about running through the forest as a deer. At first, he had been a little disappointed—deer weren’t exactly known for their prime fighting ability, after all—but he soon realized that he was starting to become more comfortable as a knobby-kneed stag than an actual human boy.
The three of them had been Animagi for just under a month, and already they showed signs of their animal selves: Peter had started chewing on anything within arms’ reach when he was anxious, James had taken a sudden liking to plain salad, and Sirius went ghost-white when the Zonko’s fireworks display went off. There had also been the time James accidentally half-transformed and got his antlers stuck in a door, but they solemnly swore not to talk about that.
The alarm’s harsh ringing immediately dispelled any and all lighthearted silliness they had built up in the half hour since Remus left. James’ mouth went dry as Sirius turned it off, but he put on his bravest face and pulled out the cloak. “Ready?”
“Ready,” the other two said in unison.
It was a bit harder to cram all three of them under one cloak than it had been in first year, that was for sure. At least we don’t have Remus Six-Foot Lupin with us, James thought as they tiptoed out the back door and into the chilly evening. Remus’ summer growth spurt meant he had to bend nearly double to hide his ankles when they used the cloak, which resulted in many stomped-on toes and muffled cursing. At least with Sirius and Peter, James was the tallest.
The Whomping Willow was easy enough to subdue. Peter transformed quickly and scampered over, pressing the knot until the branches stilled and they could see the dark tunnel in the dense roots. James fought a shiver as they entered the passage, and mentally blamed it on the suffocating chill that surrounded them as they crept under the Hogwarts grounds. His heart was beating so loud he was surprised it didn’t echo off the muddy walls.
The shack itself was just as Remus had described: a little dusty, a little wonky, and a lot creepy. There was a single cot tucked along one wall with a thick quilt over it and several dark stains that James instantly compartmentalized in the “Do Not Think About” side of his brain. “You three need to stay behind that door until you see the wolf leave, alright?” Remus said, tipping his head toward the side door as he pulled off his jumper. Sirius started to protest, but he was silenced by a glare. “That’s non-negotiable, Sirius. You stay there until you won’t get hurt, no matter what happens.” He looked at James as he said the last part and the cold stone returned.
The last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest and night settled over the grounds, deep and unrelenting. Remus stumbled, his face twisting, and Sirius caught him before he could fall, holding him by the arms. “Re? Are you alright?”
The first shaft of moonlight slanted through the broken windows and drew an odd whine from Remus’ throat. “Get back,” he managed, wobbling a little as he pushed Sirius away from him. James took the hint and grabbed both of their collars, hauling them into the side room and shutting the door. The bolt made a hollow clicking noise as it settled, and James could practically taste the bitter metal of magic lacing the walls. He could see the moon rising out of the single window and more pained noises joined the creaking of the ancient shack. He wished they had come down sooner.
Peter’s breath caught audibly as something—or someone—slammed into one of the walls with a loud bang, making the whole place shake for a moment. James wrapped his arm tight around Peter’s shoulders, holding him close to his side and never taking his eyes off the closed door; if Remus, if the wolf, broke through, he would be the first line of the defense. A sharp snap and a strangled scream made James’ stomach turn and Sirius lunged for the doorknob, only for James to catch him around the middle and haul him backward, clapping a hand over his mouth. He wasn’t fast enough to catch Peter, too.
“Pete!” he hissed, releasing Sirius’ mouth and reaching for Peter’s arm, fully prepared to Stun him if need be. Before he could pull them both back, the moonlight illuminated the room and James’ deer instincts took over, freezing him in place.
Remus, tea-drinking, jumper-clad, mischief-making Remus, was on his hands and knees in the middle of the shack. Blood dripped from his lips onto the unforgiving wood floor, his thin shoulders shaking as tears tracked down his cheeks; below him, his left leg looked wrong, and Sirius grabbed James’ arm as another crack sounded and Remus’ back went wonky for a moment.
He collapsed with a groan, curling into a ball until another muscle spasmed and he was forced to roll onto his back. He clawed at his neck, long fingers warping into semi-claws and shredding his undershirt to ribbons while his feet reshaped into paws and fur began spreading up his pale legs. It was horrible to watch, but James was too afraid to move; if the door made noise as it closed, it could draw the wolf’s attention and put them all in danger. So he waited, barely breathing, while one of his best friends writhed on the ground as his body remade itself.
Remus’ ribs flexed and crackled as he took a ragged breath. “Please, no,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please.” A warbling, inhuman howl ripped from his chest and his back arched, as if the wolf was laughing at him. James’ hand tightened on the doorframe.
Gryffindor gold eyes snapped open, pinning James in place as Remus struggled to breathe, his vision clouded with pain. “Prongs, help me.” His soul was screaming at him to go, to run to Remus and stop the wolf before it hurt him any more, but he couldn’t. He made a promise. “James, don’t leave me—” A strangled shout cut him off and James looked down at the floor, gritting his teeth.
“Sirius,” Remus’ voice was more desperate this time. “Sirius, just help me, I love you.”
“Oh my god,” Sirius whispered, straining against James’ rock-solid wall between them and the nightmare ahead. “James, you have to let me through.”
“I made a promise,” James said. His voice sounded broken even to himself. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t.”
Peter had crushed himself against the inner wall, trembling as Remus mumbled to himself and stray growls rumbled in his chest. The transformation was much faster after that: within a minute, Remus’ face had morphed into a fang-filled muzzle and the strange golden shimmer from before completely coated his eyes, turning them into mirrors for the steady moonlight. The timber wolf was much bigger than James expected, even as it lay panting on the floor, and he felt his knees go weak as it scrambled to its feet and let out a bloodcurdling howl.
Oh, shit. James closed the door as quickly and as quietly as possible, casting about a dozen rapid-fire protection charms without even thinking about it. “Is everyone okay?” he asked as soon as they heard the werewolf crash into the forest. There were a few vague murmurs. “What the fuck, Peter. What the fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” Peter said with a sniffle. “He just sounded like he was in so much pain. I wish I hadn’t done it.”
“Me, too,” Sirius said quietly. He had found an old crate to sit on and squeezed his eyes shut. “Why didn’t you let me go to him, James? He was—he was begging us—”
“I promised I would keep you both safe.”
“We could have helped him!”
“Could we?” James fired back, feeling his temper rise. “Could we really? Because I’m fairly fucking sure Remus doesn’t have a choice whether he turns or not and he did everything he could to make sure the lot of us were out of harm’s way when it happened. Who do you think cast the protective charms in here? Not fucking me, that’s for sure. He made me promise to stop you from doing anything heroic because that is not your Remus. That is a wolf that doesn’t know you from a squirrel.”
Sirius’ face was tight with fury, but James could tell he knew it was true. “See anything, Wormtail?”
“He went east.” Peter stared out the window, his cheerful face drawn and pale. “We can catch him by the river if we go now.”
“Let’s head out, then.” James carefully folded his outer layers on a shelf and set his glasses on top of them before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, letting his muscles relax. He felt his limbs lengthen, like a good stretch after Quidditch practice, and silently wished Remus had the same luxury they did. When he turned again, a small rat was perched in the fur of a shaggy black dog, clinging to the backs of its ears. James snorted and nudged the back door open with his antlers, careful to avoid getting stuck, and trotted out into the cool air.
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It was a long night. They caught up to the wolf by the river, just as Peter said, and the wolf’s delight at seeing Padfoot was obvious. The two canines wrestled and chased each other in loops, playing a strange game of tag with Prongs and hide-and-seek with Wormtail. There were some moments where the wolf was almost cute—once, he tripped over his own paws and fell in the creek, not to mention the excited tag-wag and jumping around whenever he sniffed Wormtail out before Padfoot did. Other times, he reminded the three of them just how feral he was, like when he ate a rabbit whole or raised his hackles and snarled at a stray shadow.
Prongs smelled the coming dawn about ten minutes before the first bits of sunlight peeked out over the hills as hints of fresh dew and new grass caught the morning wind. He, Padfoot, and Wormtail hurried back to the shack, tumbling through the back door and into their sanctuary barely a minute before the wolf barged in and began to pace. His claws clicked along the floor and he growled to himself, snapping his teeth as the light grew brighter. The three of them stayed as far from the door as they could, but no amount of protective charms could fully cover the distorted howls and thuds that slowly became very soft, very human weeping.
Peter gave the all-clear signal after changing into a rat and peeking through the door and James let them out. Remus was curled in a ball in the middle of the room, still in his shredded undershirt and pants as he shook in the cold. Mottled bruises from hitting the walls decorated his shoulders.
“Remus?” Sirius knelt next to him and placed a gentle hand on his back. Remus flinched away from the touch with a shuddering gasp, then melted into it and weakly tugged Sirius closer by the hem of his shirt. James and Peter were quick to follow, forming a cocoon of warmth around him as their own exhaustion settled in. It was going to be a difficult day.
“Pomfrey will be here soon,” James said quietly after a few minutes. Sirius had transformed into Padfoot soon after their cuddle session began, and Remus’ face was buried in his fur. “We should head out.”
Padfoot whined low in his throat, but Remus loosened his hold with a sigh. A pair of baleful grey eyes gazed back at James, who raised an eyebrow until Sirius was back in his human form. “Thank you,” Remus said, his voice so quiet it was almost silent. “Thank you so much.”
“Anything for you, Moony.” Peter brushed his knees off and helped Sirius to his feet as James retrieved the quilt from the cot and laid it over Remus. “Ready?”
The Invisibility Cloak was even harder to maneuver when they were all stiff from a whole night of exercise, but they made it out of the tunnel and into the castle three hours before breakfast would start. James didn’t think any of them changed into their pajamas before crumpling onto their beds and passing out cold.
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They dragged through their classes in the morning, barely awake enough to answer the few questions teachers asked. Lily rolled her eyes when she saw them and refused to edit Sirius’ essay for him, stating that “if he wanted to get it done right, he would have gotten some actual sleep instead of plotting all night”. For a moment, James considered spilling their secret to her—she was still their friend after all—but ultimately realized that in order for her to know about the Animagi, he would have to out Remus as a werewolf, and that was out of the question. No matter how much he was dying to tell her, he was a trustworthy secret-keeper.
The biggest surprise came at lunch. “Moony!” Peter half-shouted, startling James so bad he sloshed water down his front. “You’re here!”
Sure enough, Remus was squeezing through the benches toward them, looking exhausted but surprisingly alright. “Afternoon, gents, how are you?”
“Dead on my feet,” Sirius groaned, thumping his head into the table. “And yourself?”
“I’m okay.” A wide smile spread across Remus’ face; he sounded positively thrilled to be “okay”. “Pomfrey let me out early after just a nap and a fair few plasters.” He tugged the neckline of his robes down to show the small bandages around his collarbone where his claws had cut in the previous night, but otherwise there were no injuries.
“That’s wonderful, Re,” James said, feeling a good bit of his worry disappear. “Here, I got some notes from Alice Fortescue for Ancient Runes. Told her you had the sniffles this morning.”
“Oh, thanks!” Remus’ eyes lit up and he tucked the sheaf of parchment carefully into his bag. His hands were steadier than James had ever seen the morning after the full moon. It had been a rough night, that was true, but the Marauders had many rough nights, and they always pulled through in the end. They would be together through thick and thin—James could feel it in his antlers.