[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
The Night of the Full Moon


The end of February came and went with Peter still absent from the dorm. March rolled in with biting cold wind and ice, but no snow so that when the sun rose during the days everything was wet and slick outside and everyone stayed indoors. Because Peter was still gone for the first few days of the new month, Sirius and James reconstructed the plan for Remus’s birthday, which basically meant a good deal of the work fell upon James’s shoulders, since Sirius would be gone to the Shrieking Shack.

The night before the full moon, Sirius woke in the middle of the night to the sound of Remus groaning and whimpering in his bed. He hurried across the room to see what was the matter and Remus was curled up, scratching at his legs with his fingertips, the rings around his eyes darker than ever. “What’s the matter?” Sirius asked, kneeling beside the bed so he was looking into Remus’s face. “What can I do?”

“It’s my bones! They hurt,” he moaned, “They feel like they’re stretching, and they’re stretching me to death.”

“What can I do? Anything?” Sirius asked.

“The aconite,” begged Remus.

So Sirius ran and made him a cup of aconite tea by the fireplace downstairs and brought to back to the dormitory. As Remus sat up to drink it in the dark, Sirius climbed onto the bed and rubbed his shins and knees, trying to relieve some of the pain by massaging it out the best he could. He stayed there the rest of the night, whispering words of comfort as Remus rocked himself to sleep, biting onto a pillow to keep from yelling out, tears leaking from his tightly screwed eyes.

When he’d fallen asleep at last, and his face finally relaxed from the wince he’d been wearing all night, Sirius breathed in relief. “I’m sorry, Rey,” Sirius said thickly, running his fingers along Remus’s forehead, pushing back the curls, wishing he could take the pain away from him, wishing it was him instead that lay cringing in pain and it was Remus who was strong and safe. He didn’t know what it was about this boy that made him feel so damn protective…

Next morning, Sirius was exhausted and he stumbled along silently behind the other two from class to class, his skin sallow and bleary. He fell asleep in Transfiguration, which probably should have earned him a detention, but when McGonagall went to wake him, Remus said, “Please, Professor… please let him sleep…”

She looked sharply at Remus, “He is in class,” she said, “Classes are not for sleeping.”

“But he was up all night,” Rey said.

“He should have thought better of that!” she said.

“It wasn’t his fault, Professor,” Remus explained and he fabricated quickly, “I… had a nightmare. All this worrying about Peter Pettigrew… It’s made me think about my mum and… well, Sirius stayed up all night to comfort me.” None of it was a lie, really, just an omission of the pain the full moon had brought to his joints.

McGonagall had hesitated, then turned away from Sirius’s snoozing form with a slightly sour expression, and she looked at James for the answer to the question she’d meant for Sirius to answer.

That afternoon, they left for the Shrieking Shack, a bit more pep to Sirius’s step now that he’d had a bit of a nap. “I’ll understand if you want to stay in the dorm tonight,” Remus said as Sirius followed him down the stairs, “I reckon you’d like a good night’s sleep and you certainly aren’t going to get that out with me.”

“Sleep shmeep,” Sirius said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’d much rather keep you gnawing off your own skin! I’d only lose more sleep if you ended up in the ruddy hospital wing again. That bloody seat Pomfrey’s got in there is anything but soft!”

Remus was glad Sirius hadn’t taken him up on his offer and they made their way out to the Shrieking Shack. The first thing they did was check the place thoroughly for any stray Death Eaters, still traumatized from the discovery of Orion and Veigler in the upstairs bedroom the month before, but the place was empty as ever, save for the thick layers of dust that covered every surface. And so they sat on the floor, their backs against the wall, and they ate a dinner of extra sandwiches knicked from the lunch table and talked, laughing and happy.




James, meanwhile, alone in the dorm, had a very important job. He sat on the bed and cleared his throat, “Uhh… uh Tizzy?” he said outloud, unsure how one went about summoning a House Elf. The Potters had never had one as Dora was morally against the idea of having another creature as a slave, whether the ministry defined them as human or not. When Tizzy did not appear at the name, he thought for a moment, “Er… Tizzy, the Lupin house elf…” He felt rather stupid sitting there talking to the empty room. “I need you to come and help me - it’s - it’s for your Master, Remus.”

To his surprise, this statement was followed by a CRACK and there on the foot of his bed stood the teensy little house elf, wearing her apron, flapping her ears up at him. “What is it my Master Remus is needing, Master’s-Friend-James sir?” she squeaked.

James told her all about the party they’d planned and how it was just him doing all the preparations and he needed some help, seeing as he didn’t know where the kitchens were in the castle, and he didn’t have access to a cake or any of the other supplies Sirius had said they needed for the party. Tizzy grinned and bounced from foot to foot, “Oohh Master Remus will be so surprised! So surprised! Tizzy can help you for sure, yes, Master’s-Friend-James, sir, yes! And Tizzy knows where the kitchens in Hogwarts is, Tizzy’s brother Toby works at the Hogwarts kitchens, sir!”

“Brilliant,” James replied, so he got out the Marauder’s Map and laid it flat for Tizzy to see and she pointed to the corridor where the kitchens were and James quickly drew it in on the map, quite pleased to be in on the secret.

Tizzy stayed with James, helping to make paper chains for decorating, though she popped back to the Lupin’s every now and then to check that Lyall was still sleeping soundly and not needing her. It was after three o’clock before they’d finished sticking the last of the chains up around the room and James thanked her. “Oh Master’s-Friend-James, you are most very welcome! Tizzy is be doing anything to help Remus be cheering up, she is being very worried for Master Remus all of the time, sir. He has such a lot of emotions, my poor, poor Master Remus does. He is so good, so kind…”

When Tizzy had gone, James laid back and fell asleep, planning to get up early and get the last of the supplies from the kitchens the next morning.




Knockturn Alley was dark, even though the full moon hung overhead, the alley was so narrow among the tall buildings that little light filtered down. A cloaked figure, flanked by two others, walked swiftly over the cobblestones, the only sound that of three sets of footsteps, nearly perfectly in sync. They emerged from Knockturn and turned onto Diagon Alley, where the moon lit them up a bit more, but their hoods were pulled low so that their faces remained obscure, though few witches or wizards were out at this hour. One stumbling pair made their way past, but they paid the figures no attention, they were too drunken from Tom the barman’s fare back at the Leaky Cauldron and were on their way to another inn to their beds.

The figures moved swiftly and stopped outside of a dark shop with glass so dirty it had corroded the windows an odd rust color. Across the panes were written the words Past - Present- Future - Mopsus Sees All - Free Consultations. The leading figure quickly waved his wand to open the door and stepped inside.

It was dark, and a high, raspy voice hissed, “Lumos”, and a wandtip ignited. The glow of it illuminated the pale, focused face of the Dark Lord. They were standing in a room filled with clocks, all ticking in slightly different times, the sound of them like crickets. Clocks had been fastened to every available surface - wall and ceiling alike - and Voldemort’s eyes traveled across them for a moment before he stepped through the hall and further into the building.

Suddenly, there was a man before him - who had appeared to come out of nowhere so that it started Voldemort when he nearly walked into him. The man was old, bent forward on a thick cane of wood that looked like roots that had twisted about each other. He clutched the cane, his eyes closed, looking like a dead man for all the wrinkles and concave features of his face. Voldemort froze before him.

“Tom,” the man said quietly, “Mopsus sees you. Orion… Abraxus.”

Voldemort looked uneasy at this and the two Death Eaters flanking him lowered their hoods, proving that the man did indeed know who was beneath the cloaks. “I come to seek answers,” hissed the Dark Lord.

The Blind Seer’s lips twisted. “You come believing I shall tell you how to remedy your mistakes. You believe you should have had the Boy last month, but you left the fight empty handed and tonight you seek to know when you’ll get what it is you desire.”

“Yes.”

“I cannot tell you.” Mopsus turned away and shuffled down the hall, disappearing into one of the rooms. Voldemort nodded for Orion and Abraxus to follow as he hurried after the old man.

“What do you mean you can’t tell me? You see all,” he reminded the seer.

“What you want now is not what you want in the future,” Mopsus answered, “I cannot tell you when you will get what it is that you want now.”

“But I want power. Do I not have power in the future?” Voldemort demanded, angry.

“Power, yes,” Mopsus replied.

“So how do I get the boy?” he pressed.

Mopsus murmured, “You have something of his.”

“Yes,” Voldemort said.

“Why do you come to me when you have already set a plan in motion to draw the boy out?” Mopsus asked.

“Will it work?” Voldemort demanded, “Will my plan work?”

“You want me to say yes,” Mopsus said, “And if I say no, you will threaten to kill me until I say yes…” Mopsus shrugged, “You do not come to hear the truth, Tom. You come to hear what you want. I am not in the business of telling you what you want.”

Voldemort glowered, “So you say it won’t, then? But why?”

“It will in part.”

Voldemort grit his teeth, “Speak plainly, I command it!”

“The future is foggy at best, Tom,” said Mopsus, shaking his head, “I cannot tell you plainly what I cannot see plainly.”

“But will I get the boy?” Voldemort asked.

“Yes. You will get the boy.”

Without asking anything further, Voldemort grabbed onto his hood and he turned and stormed from the room, back through the hallway of the ticking clocks, and out onto the streets of Diagon Alley, closely followed by the two Death Eaters. They passed along the streets swiftly and this time as they passed the laughing, drunken couple, the woman glanced toward the figures. Voldemort raised his wand, “Avada Kedavra!” a jet of green light flashed and hit her directly in the chest. “Avada Kedavra!” he said, and her husband joined her on the sidewalk. Orion and Abraxus stepped over their bodies as they walked behind the Dark Lord.