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Dementor Echoes


The windows rattled with the sound of the wind - or of the dementors trying to get into the shack, one or the other, the boys didn’t know which. But whatever it was, the dark mood that had hovered about the shack outside was lighter once they were in their animal forms. It was easier to ignore the rattling. Sirius wondered whether the alcohol he’d drank before transforming had anything to do with the lightness that he felt as Snuffles - the dark ball that had been resting in his heart the past few days was gone, though, and he actually felt rather playful and rambunctious…

He knocked Moony down a couple times, reminding him who was alpha, but it only took a couple before the werewolf ceeded and only a few minutes later and they had Moony’s consciousness back from deep within the wolf. Sirius liked these full moons the most - when it was Remus in the wolf’s body and he had control at least a little… these were the best sorts. And suddenly, he was quite glad that it was the full moon night and he was nipping at Moony’s ears playfully as barking as Prongs kept getting his antlers stuck in the rafters of the little cottage and tripping over the round area rug in the living room. Wormtail squeaked from atop Prong’s head, nestled in the hair between his antlers, tail wrapped around the base of one of them.

Lighter or not, it was probably still a stupid idea when Sirius suggested they go mess about in the woods, but none of them objected - after all, the dementors didn’t seem to be so troublesome after all, did they? And so it was they fanangled their way out the door and Padfoot and Moony were racing each other across the meadow outback, snow flying from their paws as they barked at one another, Padfoot finally catching up and overtaking Moony, leaping up on him so that both dogs went rolling in the snow. The stag cantered along behind them merrily.

Under the cover of the trees, they ran through the bracken and leaves and jumped over logs and ducked branches. They went deeper into the forest toward the south than they’d done before and they found a herd of thestrals wandering through the trees, biting strips of bark from the birch wood trees, and they were hissed and squeaked at by wild bowtruckles in an alder that Padfoot had attempted to utilize as a toilet. The little bowtruckles were not amused by this and had chased Padfoot off into the woods, their tiny arms shaking in anger after him.

They ran an arc from the furthest point south they wanted to go and rounded their path back toward the castle. It was incredible how huge the Forbidden Forest was. It seemed to go on and on and on and on for untellable amounts of miles, and most of it completely void of any sign of human interaction. It was breathtaking to Sirius, the way the moss grew on trees when it was untouched by humans and there were times, running through those trees, that he wondered whether anyone had ever laid eyes on the things he and the other Marauders had seen out here - if the trees had ever had human company among them before - or if they were discovering parts of the earth that were theirs and theirs alone. He felt a bit like an explorer of olde, like he was discovering whole new worlds. Or perhaps the last people that had seen these trees were the likes of Godric Gryffindor himself or something - Sirius liked the idea of Godric Gryffindor exploring the trees the same as they did, perhaps having grand adventures or even discovering the land that he would show to the other Founders that would one day become Hogwarts? Sirius told himself all sorts of stories as they ran through the trees.

They reached the rocky shore by the lake after a long night of exploring and chasing rabbits and barking and playing at hide and seek and “hunting” Prongs - a sort of tag-you’re-it game that James never got to win at. The moon was getting ready to set and the castle was just starting to turn a bit pink from the light of the sun that was coming up from the other side of it from where they stood - wolf, dog, rat, and stag - staring across at it. The giant squid was doing something in the water in the middle, his tentacles raising up and down like he was dancing, and they watched the funny motions for some time, the stag honking in laughter at the way the squid waved about. Later, in his bed in the hospital wing, Remus would suggest that the squid was doing yoga and the boys would all laugh. But that was later.

They were sitting about there at the edge of the trees, watching the sunrise together, pressed close together to stay warm, one dog on each side of the stag, the rat curled into the shaggy black fur of Padfoot’s shoulder… and the sunlight came and Moony shuddered, Prongs looking over at him and honking, nudging Padfoot with his leathery nose, waking him up - for Padfoot was half asleep, his snout buried into Prongs’s shoulder. Padfoot looked up and over the stag and saw Moony was slowly changing back into a boy as he slept there on the bracken - the hair on his head turning blonde and curly and his nose sinking back into his face. Padfoot let out a happy bark and climbed over the stag to snuggle up against Moony and keep him warm now that his wolf fur was gone. Wormtail tumbled off Padfoot’s shoulder and onto Prongs’s back, so he climbed up to his usual spot between the antlers and snuggled into the warm hair there instead, figuring that was safer…

Remus was still asleep when they came.

They all were, except for Wormtail.

He was curling and recurling himself on top of Prongs’s head, trying to find a position where all four of his ratty little paws could snuggle into the softest part of the fur there when he heard a funny sound. It was the dried leaves they lay upon, and they crackled with frost, turning blue and white with it, and there was a crunching as the edge of the lake turned silver and froze up, even though it hadn’t been before… and Peter looked across the lake… The squid had gone below the water, but there were shadows coming across the lake, sweeping… gliding… the surface undisturbed by them, cloaks fluttering in the night as they moved… coming ever closer… ever closer…

Peter started squeaking and squealing in fear. He ran down Prongs’s neck, leaping onto Remus’s shoulder and frantically nibbled his ear, trying to wake him up and when that didn’t work, he leaped from his shoulder onto the dog, scrambling to the ground and - POP - he was Peter. “Wake up! Guys!! Wake up!” he looked over his shoulder, “Quickly! Wake up!” He grabbed onto the dog and onto Remus and shook and Remus stirred, though the dog merely kicked at him. “Remus!” Peter begged. The figures were so close now. “Remus wake up!”

Remus blinked at Peter, “What is it?” he groaned, “Bloody hell it’s freezing --”

“Dementors!” Peter squeaked, pointing.

Remus, still foggy from the transformation, didn’t react right away, he stared at Peter in confusion a moment, until Peter grabbed his head and turned it to see the shadowy figures coming across the lake. “Merlin’s beard!” Remus said, realizing what he was seeing. He shook Padfoot’s shoulders frantically. “Padfoot… Padfoot wake up. We need to go. Oh bloody hell!” He looked at Peter, “Go rat, you can hide in my pocket.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes - yes, hurry. It’ll be fastest if you do that and we’ll get these two up. Hurry.”

Peter transformed back and climbed frantically into Remus’s pocket as Remus struggled to get up, knocking Padfoot from his lap. Padfoot woke up, looking up at Remus in disapproval as he rolled from Remus’s lap. Remus was already waking Prongs up, and Prongs reacted faster than Padfoot, seeing the dementors sweeping toward them, he jumped to his feet and cantered forward, lowing his antlers threateningly and letting out that horrible baby-cry sound as he waved his antlers at the dementors approaching.

Seeing this got Padfoot going. He spotted the approaching dementors and he grabbed hold of Remus’s jumper with his teeth and tugged, pulling Remus along into the woods, running from the figures… headed for the cave he knew wasn’t too far off from where they were… if they could just get to that cave, perhaps they could hide, perhaps the dementors wouldn’t be able to get them there…

Remus stumbled over some roots as he ran, drawing his wand…

Back on the shore, Prongs’s threatening wasn’t the least bit intimidating to the dementors, even with the cries he was letting out, and the antlers didn’t phase them a bit. They seemed almost to be oblivious altogether of Prongs and they glided around him, past him, toward the woods, and James let out his cry in bursts, running after Remus and Sirius… The dementors followed them, too, much faster than James could move through the trees, his antlers catching in the branches…

Padfoot had nearly gotten Remus to the supposed safety of the cave when Remus spilled to the ground, his foot catching on a largish stone that Padfoot had’t seen in the dark to steer him away from. Remus tripped forward into a clearing in the trees, the early morning sunlight like a spotlight upon him as he landed in the snow, skidding and getting a bit of snow-burn along one side of his face so that he glowed red. He’d sunk through the snow, his knee striking something buried beneath it and sending a shooting pain down his shin. He let out a cry and grabbed onto it, wincing in pain as he rolled onto his side, clutching his leg, tears eking out of his eyes as he swore loudly. Padfoot doubled back, and transformed into Sirius at his side.

“What hurts, what happened?”

“My leg… my leg… hit my knee… oh fucketyfuck Sirius… it -- oh it hurts… it hurts so much.” Remus’s face was screwed up tight.

Sirius drew his wand and was about to attempt to heal it when there came Prongs’s cry through the woods and he looked up into the trees and saw the shadows there moving… coming closer… and a cold unlike the winter chill swept through the clearing - an unearthly, horrible cold that froze right to the very bones of him, draining the all buoyancy from him - his happiness completely failing…

He leaned forward, covering Remus with his arms protectively as the dementors came into the clearing - three of them. Sirius held his wand up, “Protego!” he cried and he clutched Remus closer. “Protego maxima!” A misty white shield went up, but it only seemed to slow the dementors for a moment before Sirius had to cry out the spell again and again… Prongs broke through the trees then, waving his antlers at the dementors again, though they still didn’t seem to even see him at all, really. He ran around the shield charm until it burst again and Sirius cried, “Prongs! C’mere! Quickly!” Sirius scrambled to his feet. “Protego!” he aimed his wand over his shoulder, casting a shield behind him, and ran to pull Remus from the ground. “I’m sorry, you have to,” he said when Remus protested because of his leg and the pain going up from it when he moved, “You must,” Sirius said, and he pushed Remus up onto Prongs’s back. “Go --” Sirius said, slapping Prongs on the haunch, “Go! Bring him back to the shack! Hurry. Go!!”

Prongs looked back over his shoulder for only a moment, wondering what Sirius would do, but finally, he took the order, and he turned, springing off through the trees as Sirius whirled about to face the dementors. “Incarcerous,” he tried, but nothing happened, “Flippendo - Pugnus - Stupefy!” But none of them worked against the dementors, who swooped and hovered closer and closer -- he ran for the cave, the opposite way from where Prongs was running, taking Remus, and Wormtail in his pocket.

Sirius threw himself through the mouth of the cave, hitting the floor of it and rolling into the dark, curling to himself as he went. He didn’t think the dementors would follow him in… but they did… and he trembled as he lay there, watching the dementors pass through the mouth of the cave after him and he curled in on himself, all his happy thoughts disappearing, like bubbles bursting, and tears started to cloud his vision as they descended upon him…

If only Gideon Prewett had taught them the Expecto Patronum already…

Though he doubted very much he could think of anything cheerful to cast it right now…

For Sirius suddenly felt quite haunted as voices filled his head… echoes…

.....we are better! We are of royal stock, Sirius! CRUCIO!” He could almost feel it, the memory was so vivid. His mother standing over him… “....don’t come down until you are ready to be a proper member of the House of Black! You’re a disappointment! I don’t want to see your face! You’ll stay there in your room…” Walburga’s face shimmered on the edge of Sirius’s memory and he trembled as the cloaked figures hovered closer, swirling about him like a storm cloud over an ocean….

And then she melted away and there was Orion’s voice, a blend of different times Sirius had faced him… threats and strings of curses… Sirius could feel the pavement of Grimmauld Place under his feet, still feel the burn of the brick of Number 11 when he’d jumped out the window nearly a year ago now, trying to escape that horrible house… “SIRIUS!... SIRIUS ORION BLACK! Crucio! I’ll bloody murder you boy, I’ll tear you limb to limb! You are no son of mine! Disappointment! That’s all that you are. Disappointment!! Bleedin’ little bit of rubbish, filthy blight on my good name… I’ll hex you so hard you’ll be screaming for mercy boy! The Dark Lord will finish you off!... And I’ll bloody cheer him on! I’LL SEE TO IT YOU’RE DEAD, BOY! IF ITS THE LAST THING I DO!

“Please,” Sirius begged, “Please…” He didn’t even know what he was begging for. Only that whatever it was, he prayed it would stop these flashes… these memories… this darkness that was crawling its way through his veins. He felt like he was falling in an abyss of heartache. “Please!”

And one of the dementors swept close enough Sirius could hear his rattling breath beneath the cloak, could see a bony hand reaching out to touch him, and he gasped, pressing himself as flat against the stone floor of the cave as he could go. And the dementor sucked in the air thick… heavy… and Sirius felt as though something was being pulled out of him and he shook his head, “Nooo… leave me be… leave me be… please…”

And the dementor swept away -- a second one taking his place, rattling breath and icy cold…

“Stop, please…”

And the third dementor’s turn came… and he came closest of all and the third one seemed the strongest of the three, sucking the air so hard over Sirius that he felt his chest rise up from the stone, as though the dementor was drawing his whole body up from the ground.

They were killing him, he knew it.

He had to find some way to be happy or he would die… there on the floor of a horrible, stinking, freezing cold cave.

What was the one thing that made him better when he was sad? He couldn’t remember. The dementors had dragged even the memory of whatever it was out of his head… the memory of it was warm though… the thing was warm… and it was… it was soft…

Happy thoughts, remember?

The thought came through in Remus’s voice.

Remus.

Sirius didn’t know how he got the strength to transform… but he did. He cried out in agony - the transformation hurt like bloody hell - the dementors sweeping over him, sucking the air, even as his bones cracked and the fur sprouted over his skin… but they stopped, and Sirius thought perhaps they were watching in awe or amusement as his body completed the change and there on the cave floor lay the dog.

He trembled, waiting, waiting for them to come for him.

But as the dog, he could feel Remus more. He could almost imagine Remus’s fingers running through his fur and a warmth started to fill him from the bottom up… a memory of a warm blanket in the dormitory, of Remus laying under his duvet, reading their History of Magic homework assignment outloud, stroking Padfoot behind his ears as he snuggled up, laying on Remus’s chest…

And the dementors, though they were still hovering above him, they didn’t seem so scary… and Padfoot slowly crawled, dragging himself across the floor of the cave, glancing up at them, right out the mouth of it, and into the snow outside. It was cold against his belly as he dragged his way out of the darkness and into the sun. The sun was warm on his black fur and, desperate, he struggled to his feet and he ran pellmell away, streaking through the trees faster than he’d ever done before. He didn’t dare to look back, afraid they would come for him.

He didn’t slow down until he’d reached the Shrieking Shack.