The Wolf and the Raven

Ch 14 - The Thing Inside Me

"Mate?" Sirius groped around until he felt the edge of the cloak, then lifted it over himself and Peter. "What was it? What's in there?"

"W-w-werewolf!"

"Wha-!" Sirius clapped a hand over Peter's mouth before he could scream.

"We can't leave though," James was panting. "Branwen's in there too."

"How do you know?"

"I heard her. I heard her in there. I'd know her voice anywhere."

"So, what're we supposed to do? Fight a werewolf?"

James shook his head. "I couldn't see where she was. She must be hiding somewhere. If we can wait until the sun comes up and the werewolf changes back, we can get in there and rescue her. For now, we'll just have to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't find her."

"Or us," Peter gulped as Sirius released his mouth.

The other boys were wary of James' plan, but neither had a better one. And, though they wouldn't admit it, neither wanted to find his way back to the school alone in the dark. So they decided to take turns, one of them watching at the window under the cloak while the other two huddling beneath the porch.

They had come completely unprepared to spend a deep winter's night out of doors. Their toes and fingers went numb almost instantly, and Peter kept whimpering about frostbite and amputations. The wind was partially blocked when they were under the porch, but whoever was on observation duty had to face the frosty breeze with only the invisibility cloak and his thin school robes. Never before had James been so cold. Only his determination to see his sister safe again kept him rooted to the spot.

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Dawn crept upon them slowly; the only signal of its approach was a grey mist rolling in, only a shade lighter than the darkness around them. James and Sirius were squeezed together as tightly as possible, stealing each other's body heat under the porch. Peter, who had been on lookout, was slumped against the wall, a high-pitched snore whistling from his nose. Then a loud wail, entirely different from the ones that had haunted them all night, jolted them wide awake. They rushed to the window, the cloak pooling on the ground.

This new noise, somewhere between the vicious howl of a wolf devouring its prey and the scream of a tortured man, was more horrifying than anything boys their age could have imagined. The werewolf was in the centre of the drawing room, but he was no longer fully a wolf. He staggered, then bent double, clutching his stomach. The sound of bones snapping echoed in the cold air. With each snap, another limb shortened. Fur was being shed, leaving a naked, scarred body behind. With a final scream, the face of the wolf contorted, then revealed its owner, bloodied and torn.

"Remus!"

The mouths of all three boys were hanging wide open, but the shout hadn't come from any of them. A trapdoor in the shack had slammed open and Branwen was suddenly kneeling over her friend. By the time James and the others broke their way through the front door, she was shrugging off her coat and draping it over Remus' body. Unravelling her scarf, she used it to dab at the blood from his multiple wounds.

"Remus, Remus, I had no idea." Cold tears slipped down her cheeks. Where they landed on his skin, the grime and gore was washed away. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Bran? Remus?" James' voice croaked its way through his throat.

She spun around, finally noticing their presence. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" he shot back.

"What are all of you doing here?" A woman's loud clear voice cut across the confusion. Madam Pomfrey's head and shoulders were protruding from the cavity beneath the trapdoor. "Get out of here, at once!" She climbed up and shooed at Branwen and her friends.

"No, no!" Branwen threw herself across Remus' body, clinging to him like a life preserver.

"Bran....it's....okay...." Remus lifted a hand.

She pulled away, wiping her eyes, and Madam Pomfrey approached. The healer gently lifted Branwen's coat and scarf, handing them back to the girl as she replaced them with a fresh night shirt and heavy blanket. Then she set herself to work.

She waved her wand across his body, muttering healing spells. Occasionally she would reach a particular spot that needed more attention and the spells would become more complicated. When that was done, she reached into her small valise and pulled out a number of potion bottles, using only a few drops from some, pouring generously from others.

Branwen watched from under the warm, protective arm of her brother who, along with his friends, could only stare at the unbelievable sight before them.

"Well," Pomfrey pushed herself up and dusted off her knees, "if you four insist on coming along, at least help me get him to the hospital wing."

James and Sirius rushed forward as though on autopilot, their bodies grateful to finally move and be of use. Each boy slung one of Remus' arms around their shoulders and attempted to ignore his wincing and groaning. Peter and Branwen followed, Peter patting her hand as she broke out in fresh sobs again.

Led by Pomfrey, the odd procession made its way slowly through the trapdoor and up a long passageway beneath the ground. The friends barely registered that they had emerged beneath the Whomping Willow, which Pomfrey had stilled with a well-aimed spell near one of the roots. With slow, stealthy steps, they managed to avoid any other students and arrived in the hospital wing unnoticed. Knowing the children had much to discuss amongst themselves, Pomfrey made quick work of her final ministrations and left the five alone.

Remus' eyes were closed and sweat shone on his pale brow as he lay back against the pillows. Branwen knelt beside his bed. Her chin rested on the mattress and one of her hands stroked his with a feather-light touch. The other boys stood, awkward and silent, around the bed of their friend.

"I guess," Remus' chest heaved as he spoke, his eyes still closed, "that you'll be....writing home....telling your parents....there's a monster....in the school."

"A monster! Where?" Peter jumped and whipped his head around.

"I mean me. Arse."

James seemed to wake from a daze. He suddenly started to laugh.

Branwen smacked her brother's leg. "What on earth are you laughing about?"

"Remus here thinking he's a monster. I mean, you have to admit, it's a little ridiculous."

Remus finally squinted his eyes open. "What are you on about?"

Sirius started to chuckle too. "He's right, mate. Last week I saw you take a spider and let it go outside instead of killing it. Forgive me if I'm not running for cover."

"You don't understand," Remus' anger seemed to fuel his energy, "Maybe I'm nice to bugs once in a while, but I could have killed you tonight. I would have if you had come inside the Shack. I have a thing inside me that doesn't care about anyone. It kills and destroys without feeling or remorse."

Branwen gripped his hand tightly and traced her finger over a new scar that was forming along his wrist. "That thing inside....It hurts you, too, doesn't it?"

He glanced down at her, tears streaming freely down both their faces. "You're our friend, Remus," she continued, "and friends help each other, no matter what."

The boys around her nodded. "Anything you need, mate, we're there for you. In fact, anything you need right now? We'll run out and get it."

A small smile formed on Remus' tear-stained face. "Some chocolate would be nice."

Sirius went to turn, but Branwen held up her hand. "A good witch is always prepared." She reached into her bag and pulled out a handful of chocolate bars which she distributed with a smile.