The Marauders: Year Four

Oh Deer, a Full Moony

Remus laughed, "And not enough at the same time. I reckon he would've come up with something funnier than oh deer."

"His humor would've stag-gered us," agreed James.

"Yes, because he's so barking mad."

"Always mutt-ering about..."

"Telling tails..."

"Making us howl with laughter." James's eyes sparked with delight at the pun war. "But never rat-ting us out for our wrong doings."

James's snickered. "I'm sure there's a world of puns I'm missing but I think I'm at the end of the line for the mo'," he laughed. "You've won then." They'd climbed into the trap door as they quipped Sirius-style back and forth, and now there they stood in the middle of the Shack's living space, and Remus was shutting the trap door, smirking about all the laughs they'd just had, feeling mighty glad James was there. "So what do you lot do to pass the time between now and the moonrise usually?" James asked. "I'm game for anything. Oi. Game. Another deer pun." He smirked.

Remus laughed. "Well, we don't usually get up to anything that I reckon you'll be wanting to give a go at..." He murmured, turning a bit red as he said it.

James stared at him daftly for a moment, then his eyes lit up and he flushed, chortling, "Bloody hell, is the Shrieking Shack becoming a bit of a snog house?" he asked, "A sex-scandal waiting to happen! Werewolf beds illegal animagus in supposed empty house - shrieking sounds explained at last!" James said the words like he were reading a headline off the Daily Prophet and Remus couldn't help but laugh so hard tears sprang to his eyes.

"Shut it, you!" he cried, punching James's shoulder, "Like you wouldn't fancy having a go at some little doe out here sometime. You're only jealous that it's me that's gotten a go at it!"

They ended up in the room upstairs, lazing about, letting Sirius's stereo play some Bob Dylan as they talked and made outrageous plans on how to steal Sirius back from the Black house and sneak him in the castle without Moody or anyone else seeing it - plotting everything from riding thestrals clear to London to digging a tunnel with some spoons like James had seen in a muggle film on the telly once. Remus suggested rowing a boat from the Black Lake and James pointed out that bloody lakes don't take you to London! And then suggested they use the bubblehead charm and swim through the great underground cisterns and springs all the way to the Black house and come bursting up through the water pipes like Moaning Myrtle.

When the time of the moonrise had finally come, they turned off the stereo and headed back downstairs, where Remus sat on the couch and stared out the window as the grounds slowly turned darker and the lights came on in the castle. James stood across the room stoking a fire so they wouldn't freeze to death - it was already quite cold in the Shack.

Remus turned around to look at him. "You're sure you want to stay?" he asked, "You haven't got much longer before the transformation starts to change your mind."

James shook his head, "I'm good. Are you good? You don't mind me staying, do you? I dunno if it's... like... private or something? Like I'm not forcing myself on you?"

"Oh bloody hell, no of course not!" Remus replied, shaking his head vigorously. "I'm touched you're even wanting to give it a go, honestly."

James replied, "Marauders for life, mate."

Remus winced suddenly, the first of the many sharp pains running through his spine, his teeth grit, nose crumpled as his muscles and nerves tightened. "Last-- last chance --"

"I'm staying here, Moony."

And with that declaration, James quickly transformed into his stag form, wobbly on his feet at first as he stumbled backwards on his four legs, his hooves clunking on the wood floor of the Shack. His tall antlers meant he had to duck down beneath the low hanging ceiling. He blinked through his wide deer eyes, with the long, thick lashes, staring at the horrible sight of Remus in the throws of his transformation, his face stretching horrendously outward, his voice crying out in pain... then turning to the howl of the wolf...

Sirius threw the owl out the window carrying his letter to James. He scrambled back into the room, but there was no hope of getting his things - not all of them. He could already hear Orion Black on the stairs, bellowing, blasting things apart... Walburga shrieking loudly... Sirius grabbed a rucksack in in the world's fastest fashion ever, shoved only the barest of essentials into it, tugging on his leather jacket and leaped back to the window. He'd left the window open from chucking out the owl, and now he took a deep breath, quelling the fear he felt building up inside of himself at the thought of what he was about to do...

He grabbed onto the ledge and threw himself over, clutching on so he was hanging there - three stories over the alley that ran between the Black family home and Number 11. He clutched the sill, heart in his throat, letting his legs scrabble against the siding of the house. He made the mistake of looking down. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," he groaned and he shuffled his hands across the wood, feeling splinters and cuts in his palms and fingers, his bones screaming for him to let go, his muscles struggling to maintain their hold...

Finally, reaching the edge of the sill - he heard Orion burst through his bedroom door, heard wood shatter as he exploded the door and Sirius looked over to the wall of Number 11. There was a drainpipe there from the gutters, stretching away down to the ground, disappearing among some thorny looking brush below. He swung, his feet touching the pipe, trying to get a feel for the distance, and he swallowed back his fear as Orion Black was bellowing his name in the bedroom over his head... and then spells were shot at the window sill, bursting the wood he was clutching to into bits - and he made a desperate move, flinging himself through the air and catching onto the gutter pipe with a shout, his stomach slamming into the brick.

"UMPH!" Sirius grunted, tears coming into his eyes from the impact but somehow - miraculously - he managed to cling onto the pipe, his fingers shaking as he clung on.

Spells shot down at him from the window. "ORION --" Walburga was shrieking, "ORION!"

Sirius slid down the pipe as quick as he dared to, afraid of hitting the ground and hurting himself. Orion shot spell after spell, sparks of red and green striking off the wall - bits of brick flying about, chipped off the wall, and he hit the ground and rolled into the brush that lined the house, trying to obscure himself. Orion kept waving his wand as his wife shrieked at him... "Bloody hell, bloody hell!" Sirius scrambled as fast as he could, diving 'round the edge of Number 11 and out of sight of the window.

He sprinted - knowing it was only moments before Orion Black would apparate onto the street after him. He had to find a place to hide, somewhere Orion wouldn't find him... and he sped up, his breath catching in his throat, his heart thumping so very hard... searching for a place - any place - to hide... He bolted down the alleyway between Numbers 10 and 11, skidding into a rubbish bin, knocking it over and sending a cat screeching back toward the park across from the houses... When he got good and far into the dark back there, he paused, threw his rucksack to the ground behind a couple bins and quickly transformed into Snuffles.

He was a bit surprised that the spell worked for the transformation even without his wand.

He laid in the dark, shivering, as low to the ground and Snuffles could press, panting, ears flat to his head, waiting... listening... as Orion Black shouted his son's name and a string of threats and curses into the night.