Disclaimer: I don’t own any of JKR’s wonderful works for if I did I would be making lots of money and living it up in my mansion somewhere in the UK. HOWEVER! The plot is mine!

Summery: I wrote this story for the Forbidden Forest Exploration Mission 2003. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs take a trip out into the Forbidden Forest one full moon. The two canines are separated from their pack leaving them to experience the sunrise alone and still in the forest. Padfoot goes off to find help and the young werewolf is left all by himself.

Author’s Note: I would like to thank Gwynne who helped me cut down the story tremendously! The original version was over 2,000 words long. It’s not as good as the original, but I have high hopes for my first story submitted to the Quill!

First Light

            The silver wolf and Grim-like dog were not always as they appeared that full moon night. Usually, they were teenage boys; not exactly ones they would call normal, but teenaged boys nonetheless.  The wolf gazed up; the moon was completely blocked by the trees. My pack’s not complete—where are they?

Padfoot and Moony trudged through the forest when both tensed—light shone in the east. Pain coursed through the wolf’s body as he let out an agonizing howl. His legs buckled; he collapsed to the ground. Moony’s howls echoed eerily through the forest before converting into human screams. The wolf vanished; the boy’s mind and body regained their rightful places, but the pain lingered.

Padfoot disappeared with a pop. Sirius Black knelt by Remus’ side and shook his shoulder.  “Stay awake! We’re not in the Shrieking Shack; we’ve got to get there! C’mon!”

            “Sirius?” Remus croaked. He tried to recognize their location. “Sirius, where the hell are we?”

            Sirius gestured to the trees. “Somewhere in the Forbidden Forest….”

            Remus tried to sit, but winced and lay back down. “Please tell me you’re joking, Padfoot.”

            Sirius gulped, stood, and looked for any sign of their companions. “I wish I could. Damn it! Where the hell are they?” Remus forced himself to sit. He pulled his knees up to his bare chest, wincing with each breath. Remus shivered; Sirius quickly removed his cloak. “You need this more than I do.”

            That’s all I need: Sirius getting sick. Why can’t I keep my wand when I transform? “You’ll freeze to death without it.” Remus shook his head.

            “Not before you do.” Sirius threw the cloak at Remus. Remus looked from the cloak to Sirius’ resolute face. Sighing, he shivered and pulled the cloak over his body.

            “How did you and James separate? I can’t remember.”

            “Well, Prongs and Wormtail led; Moony and I brought up the rear. Moony smelled something and took off. I tore after him—they didn’t hear us. Sometimes I wish made more noise so James would hear me. You know how often Prongs nearly trampled Moony and me?” The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched. He talks as if Moony and I aren’t one and the same.

            Remus glared. “The only way I’m getting back is by riding Prongs, so—go, Padfoot, fetch.” Sirius glared. “Go, unless you want to explain why all four of us were in the Forbidden Forest.”

            “That would mean leaving you alone, unprotected, in the forest. Not a very wise idea, is it?”

            Remus tried to chuckle but could only cough. Sirius ran to his side; Remus raised his hand. “Stop, I’m all right. I didn’t sort into Ravenclaw for a reason, Padfoot: the word of the wise hardly appeals to me. Now—“ Remus extended his hand— “give me your wand so I have some protection. You’ve got Padfoot, I’ve got nothing.”

            “You’re a stubborn git, you know that?” Sirius handed over his wand. “If we find you’ve been eaten by a Griffin, don’t haunt my grave. Haunt your own—better still, haunt James’.” Sirius transformed with a pop and bounded off into the forest.

            Remus sat silently, the rustling of the leaves and the wind’s echo oddly comforting. I won’t be attacked—I still smell of werewolf. I’m safe—I’ll just rest my eyes for a second… Remus held Sirius’ wand tightly as he nodded into sleep. Just in case…

            Something touched Remus’ face. He opened his eyes—arrows? Centaurs? He stayed immobile, clutching Sirius’ wand, listening.

            “We do not kill young--”

            “He’s a beast! An evil creature that could devour us all—“

            “Marcov is right. Do away with the Were now. We foretell his comings every moon.”

            “We will never rest in peace while this creature lives—“

            “We cannot kill a foal!”

            “He’s a beast, not a foal!”

            “A beast that kills Centaurs!”

            “An evil beast like the ones working for the Dark Lord!”

            “Kill him NOW!” Remus held the wand tightly and inched backward. His only method of escape was to crawl through one of the centaur’s legs, and he wasn’t keen on being trampled. A sharp arrow jabbed his back; he cried out in pain. The half-humans turned toward him.

            The largest centaur approached, his arrow still pointing threateningly. “Speak your name.” Remus opened his mouth, but seemed to have forgotten how to talk. “I said speak, werewolf!”

            Remus winced. “Remus Lupin.”

            “Remus Lupin.” The centaur put down his weapons. “Your kind doesn’t belong here.”

            The Centaur lifted him by the cloak; Remus dangled from his hands, gasping for air. Nothing will happen. Right! Remus’ throat began to tighten; air became scarce. He felt his body go numb. He struggled weakly, but the Centaur’s hold on him seemed to strengthen.

            Remus made one last futile gasp for breath. His eyes closed as he neared unconsciousness.

Then he heard hooves approaching. He recognized them instantly; he recognized the smell instantly.

            “Prongs…” The Centaur dropped him and turned toward the chestnut stag; Remus listened to the commotion. The Centaurs yelled as they tried and failed to fight off the stag. Remus felt something on his leg and smiled: Wormtail.

            Prongs reared, thrashing his front legs. The Centaurs backed up. They could not kill forest creatures; they didn’t know Prongs’ true identity. Something wet and slobbery touched Remus’ face.

            He pushed the dog away. “Sirius… Ge’ off me!!” Remus snapped. Padfoot backed down meekly and transformed. Two more pops sounded; James and Peter appeared by Remus’ side.

Remus stood, a closed expression on his face. “Let’s get back to the castle.”

“Sorry,” Sirius began, “We didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Remus took a deep breath. “People don’t mean for lots of things to happen, but they do.” He looked at James, who transformed with a pop. The stag bowed down; Remus climbed onto his back. All four trotted off together through the trees. Remus looked back and, in the distance, saw the outline of a watching, waiting, Centaur.