The Marauders’ Last

As the moon descended the wolf’s cries grew louder. Spread out on the ground in the Forbidden Forest, flailing its legs in pain, the wolf’s snout shortened. Its fur shortened and the tail disappeared. Howls of pain transmuted into the soft cries of a man.

            Remus Lupin forced himself to his feet. His neck was torn and bleeding, and his arm was a mass of dried blood. What happened? Remus closed his eyes, blocking the pain out. Sirius.

            He turned around. He needed to get out of here. He had to help Sirius. Instead he came face to face with a white creature. It surveyed him with its blank eyes. A thestral, Remus thought, they must like my blood.

            “Professor Lupin!”

            “Hagrid!” Remus raced forward, he needed to know now. “Sirius Black, is he-”

            “I’m sorry Remus,” Hagrid handed Remus some robes and Remus put them on numbly. Sorry? Then the kiss, the dementors…

            “No…”

“They’ll get him. Don’ know ‘ow he did it. Mus’ be from the years he spent with You-Know-Who.”

Remus blinked, his hand still adjusting his robes. “He… He escaped then.”

“Las’ night.”

“Harry-”

“Is fine. So are Ron and Hermione.” Hagrid said. “Come on, Madam Pomfrey ought to heal yeh.”

Remus looked at himself. His blood had all ready stained the robes. “Yes,” He murmured. “She ought to.”

Sirius was alive. He was still on the run, but he was alive. God, Padfoot was alive. But- Peter? If Hagrid hadn’t mentioned him then he must have escaped as well.

“Professor Dumbledore wants to speak with yeh.”

Dumbledore. Yes, he would speak with Dumbledore. He would tell him the truth about Sirius. He would resign- he knew that. There were too many deceptions in his life. He had deceived Dumbledore, the students, even himself by thinking it was safe for him to teach. He doubted that the thestral would still be there if the moon had set a few minutes later.

He stepped out of the Forbidden Forest and into the sunlight. The thestral stopped and, after staring at Remus for a long time, glided back into its shelter of trees. Remus looked at the thestral’s retreating form. He stood resolute, prepared.

“Professor Lupin?”

Without answering, Remus walked back into Hogwarts. All ready he was forming what he would say to Dumbledore, his students, and, the most enjoyable of all, he was thinking of what he would write to Sirius. Azkaban may have changed him, but he was still Padfoot. And Remus was still Moony. Remus smiled.

The Marauders had returned to Hogwarts last night for one final romp in the Forbidden Forest.