Categories > Books > Harry Potter
When the first weak rays of morning light illuminated the shivering form of a gray wolf, it let out a pitiful whine and began to shake. First his tail, white-tipped and full, shook and shuddered. The tremors moved up his steely gray body, muscle tensed and hard under thick fur. Finally his head whipped from side to side in agony as the shakes overtook him. The animal never stopped making noises, from whines to barks to full-blown howls. But it was soon over as the light filtering in through the grime-streaked window turned from gray to soft yellow. Where a wolf once stood now lay a shivering, naked boy.
The child, perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age, slowly picked himself up from the scratched wooden floors and walked over to a massive chest at the end of a tattered bed. He slid back the bolts and heaved open the heavy lid, exposing a pile of neatly folded clothing sitting beside a paper bag. He took out each item separately, placing the piles in front of him, though not dressing immediately. The already healing cuts on his body still needed a few minutes to fully close.
As he peered into the bag of food, a slow creaking sound pierced his heart, elevating his already high heartbeat. It was a sound that he never, ever wanted to hear while in this place: a slowly opening door.
Frozen in terror, Remus Lupin's gaze was transfixed on the widening crack between the door-frame and door. Then a tiny gray head and body poked through, and he breathed again. It was a rat.
The thing scurried to the middle of the room -- an odd thing for a rat to do, Remus noted -- and looked straight into his eyes.
Then the door was thrown open, making Remus jump and nearly drop the bag. There stood a massive black dog, really more like a tame wolf than a house pet. It was bigger than Remus' beast form, and far more formidable in his opinion -- black fur, shined nails, rounded snout, tail twitching in anticipation. While wolfs were built for efficiency and speedy kills, all lean body and aerodynamics, this dog's well-defined muscle and huge paws were meant for mauling.
The animal padded into the room, lips curling up in what looked like a sneer to the terrified Remus. Just when his heart-rate slowed to a slightly more normal level, another round of sounds sent him into high alert once more. Head whipping towards the door again, he gasped out loud.
The stag was the largest animal he had ever seen up close. What with its curled antlers and wide, light brown body, it simply could not fit in the door. Its eyes, dark brown and wise, seemed to calm Remus down.
"What is going on?" he wondered to himself, bowing his head to rest on his knees. Running a hand through his light brown hair, he sighed. "Can the night get any more bizarre?" he muttered, voice low to be sure he wouldn't startle these animals.
"I guess so," replied a familiar voice. It took a moment for it to register in Remus' overloaded brain, but when it did, his head shot up so fast that he would have an ache in the base of his neck for weeks.
"Sirius?" he asked, mouth hanging open. "What are you... why... it's five in the morning, Sirius, for God's sakes!"
"I dare say it was worth it, old buddy," he said, dark eyes warm as he stared at Remus.
"Have you seen -- " but when Remus looked up to check on the stag and rat, he saw nothing. Nothing but Peter sitting in the middle of the floor and James waiting patiently in the doorway.
"Hold on a minute," he said haltingly, over-enunciating each word to give him more time to think. "Are you three ... " He trailed off, unable to finish.
"Animagi," James breathed, a sense of awe in his voice. "We taught ourselves, Remus."
"To give you some company," Peter added, round face shining with accomplishment.
"But, I don't understand! How do you know? When did you find out?" Remus asked a bit hysterically. This was far too much -- why weren't they running for cover? He had just transformed back, and traces of the wolf lingered in his blood. His rage would be uncontrollable if one of them provoked him.
"Aren't we going to get some credit?" Sirius asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. "It was damn hard, you know, Rem. Had to steal books and everything; but we returned them, no worries."
A long moment passed as everyone looked at Remus. "Do you mean to tell me," he asked slowly, "that you three became Animagi for me?"
"It was all Sirius's fault," James muttered. "He was crazy when he worked it out, and we had to go along with him else he'd have been stuck as a dog for the rest of his life. You know he completely ignores directions? Skips to the incantations and hopes for the best."
"I object, Prongs, I completely understood that chapter -- "
"Prongs?" Remus asked, then his steely gray eyes lit up with comprehension. "I get it. I'm Moony ... "
"Wormtail," Peter offered.
"Padfoot," Sirius crowed with a grin.
"And Prongs." James' eyes, slightly unfocused because he wasn't wearing his glasses, were proud.
Remus looked at the ceiling to stop his suddenly watery eyes from overflowing, blinking rapidly. He took a moment to collect himself, taking a shuddering breath before surveying the room once more.
"We're all naked," he commented as he finally regained his senses.
"We're the Marauders," Sirius said, as if it was an explanation.
"Marauders," Remus repeated, the word sparking something within himself that felt alien and strange, yet completely correct. A sense of friendship, of camaraderie, of purpose. He was a Marauder.
Finally, he belonged.
The child, perhaps twelve or thirteen years of age, slowly picked himself up from the scratched wooden floors and walked over to a massive chest at the end of a tattered bed. He slid back the bolts and heaved open the heavy lid, exposing a pile of neatly folded clothing sitting beside a paper bag. He took out each item separately, placing the piles in front of him, though not dressing immediately. The already healing cuts on his body still needed a few minutes to fully close.
As he peered into the bag of food, a slow creaking sound pierced his heart, elevating his already high heartbeat. It was a sound that he never, ever wanted to hear while in this place: a slowly opening door.
Frozen in terror, Remus Lupin's gaze was transfixed on the widening crack between the door-frame and door. Then a tiny gray head and body poked through, and he breathed again. It was a rat.
The thing scurried to the middle of the room -- an odd thing for a rat to do, Remus noted -- and looked straight into his eyes.
Then the door was thrown open, making Remus jump and nearly drop the bag. There stood a massive black dog, really more like a tame wolf than a house pet. It was bigger than Remus' beast form, and far more formidable in his opinion -- black fur, shined nails, rounded snout, tail twitching in anticipation. While wolfs were built for efficiency and speedy kills, all lean body and aerodynamics, this dog's well-defined muscle and huge paws were meant for mauling.
The animal padded into the room, lips curling up in what looked like a sneer to the terrified Remus. Just when his heart-rate slowed to a slightly more normal level, another round of sounds sent him into high alert once more. Head whipping towards the door again, he gasped out loud.
The stag was the largest animal he had ever seen up close. What with its curled antlers and wide, light brown body, it simply could not fit in the door. Its eyes, dark brown and wise, seemed to calm Remus down.
"What is going on?" he wondered to himself, bowing his head to rest on his knees. Running a hand through his light brown hair, he sighed. "Can the night get any more bizarre?" he muttered, voice low to be sure he wouldn't startle these animals.
"I guess so," replied a familiar voice. It took a moment for it to register in Remus' overloaded brain, but when it did, his head shot up so fast that he would have an ache in the base of his neck for weeks.
"Sirius?" he asked, mouth hanging open. "What are you... why... it's five in the morning, Sirius, for God's sakes!"
"I dare say it was worth it, old buddy," he said, dark eyes warm as he stared at Remus.
"Have you seen -- " but when Remus looked up to check on the stag and rat, he saw nothing. Nothing but Peter sitting in the middle of the floor and James waiting patiently in the doorway.
"Hold on a minute," he said haltingly, over-enunciating each word to give him more time to think. "Are you three ... " He trailed off, unable to finish.
"Animagi," James breathed, a sense of awe in his voice. "We taught ourselves, Remus."
"To give you some company," Peter added, round face shining with accomplishment.
"But, I don't understand! How do you know? When did you find out?" Remus asked a bit hysterically. This was far too much -- why weren't they running for cover? He had just transformed back, and traces of the wolf lingered in his blood. His rage would be uncontrollable if one of them provoked him.
"Aren't we going to get some credit?" Sirius asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. "It was damn hard, you know, Rem. Had to steal books and everything; but we returned them, no worries."
A long moment passed as everyone looked at Remus. "Do you mean to tell me," he asked slowly, "that you three became Animagi for me?"
"It was all Sirius's fault," James muttered. "He was crazy when he worked it out, and we had to go along with him else he'd have been stuck as a dog for the rest of his life. You know he completely ignores directions? Skips to the incantations and hopes for the best."
"I object, Prongs, I completely understood that chapter -- "
"Prongs?" Remus asked, then his steely gray eyes lit up with comprehension. "I get it. I'm Moony ... "
"Wormtail," Peter offered.
"Padfoot," Sirius crowed with a grin.
"And Prongs." James' eyes, slightly unfocused because he wasn't wearing his glasses, were proud.
Remus looked at the ceiling to stop his suddenly watery eyes from overflowing, blinking rapidly. He took a moment to collect himself, taking a shuddering breath before surveying the room once more.
"We're all naked," he commented as he finally regained his senses.
"We're the Marauders," Sirius said, as if it was an explanation.
"Marauders," Remus repeated, the word sparking something within himself that felt alien and strange, yet completely correct. A sense of friendship, of camaraderie, of purpose. He was a Marauder.
Finally, he belonged.
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