The Marauders: Year Three | #Wattys2016

Problems

He paused to be sick again, lurching it over a log along the side of the path, falling to his knees once again so that his cheek pressed against the ice-coated bark of the log, his slacks soaking in the snow, which was stained red by the blood pouring from his arm.

There was a creaking - the sound of the gates of Hogwarts opening. Someone was coming out of them. Veigler struggled for the air, "Help me," he sobbed. "Help me. Someone please. Anyone."

There were hurried footsteps on the path as whoever it was that had opened the gate came 'round to see who it was begging for help in the road to Hogsmeade. It was Dumbledore. He'd been on his way to check on Remus in the Shrieking Shack - about to disapparate away when Ned's voice had carried 'round the bend to his ears. He hastened to Veigler's side. "What has he done to you?" Dumbledore whispered and he looked away down the path, "He hasn't followed --"

"No, he's gone," Veigler struggled to whisper the words. "He'll be back... He'll kill me next month, Albus. He'll kill me. He'll finally, mercifully, kill me."

Dumbledore's eyes softened. "It would be no mercy," he replied.

Veigler's teeth were grit with the pain.

"Come, we'll have Poppy tend your wound as best she can..." Dumbledore whispered.

"Fawkes?" choked Veigler.

"Gone," Dumbledore answered. "But I have a bottle of Phoenix Tears in my office and I'll get it once we get you to Poppy's care." He helped Veigler to his feet, catching him as he stumbled, steadying him with a surprising amount of strength at Veigler would not have expected from the old man. "It will be alright, Ned."

They were the last words he heard before Veigler blacked out, slumping into Dumbledore's arms. "That's two of my professors that have passed out on me in one night," Dumbledore murmured, shaking his head. Quickly, Dumbledore waved his wand, lifting Veigler gently from the ground by magic, hurrying back to the castle.

It was most lucky indeed for Remus, at least, that Dumbledore had been distracted on the road. The boys had fallen asleep in the woods, nestled in the leaves, their canine forms curled around one another for warmth against a cold that had set in during the wee hours of the morning. At sunrise, Remus had changed back to a person, and he lay now, coiled around the fluffy black form of Snuffles, his head resting on the dog's back haunches, one leg over the dog's neck so that his torso pressed along the length of the dog.

He'd been having a dream... though he couldn't for the life of him recall what about.

He stirred as the chill of the night nipped along his spine and the weight of sleep lifted from his heavily lidded eyes. For a moment, his mind hazy from the depths of sleep, nothing seemed odd at all, and he snuggled his nose against the softness of the dog's furs in contentment, eager to get back to whatever it was that he'd been dreaming of.

Then the dawning of realization came to him and he sat up, disturbing Sirius, kicking the dog's head as he moved his leg. "We're in the bloody woods!"

The dog stretched lazily, yawning as he extended his legs before him to their fullest length.

"SIRIUS. We're in the woods." Remus panicked, tensing up.

The dog stretched his neck left... then right.

"Bloody hell. Dumbledore's going to go to the Shack and find I'm not there and then what? Then I'll be expelled. Oh hell. He's probably there now. I'm in trouble. Sirius, I'm in deep trouble. What've we done?"

Finally, realizing Remus wasn't going to calm down, Sirius turned back into a person, too, sitting up and turning to look at Remus for the first time. A wide grin spread across his mouth. "That, uh, isn't your only problem, mate," he said, a snicker to his voice.