The Slytherin had been in the infirmary for almost a full day, far more time than it took to let the news spread throughout the castle. "Severus Snape, after an unfortunate incident in Potions class, had caught fire and ended up crawling bare-assed in front of everyone." It was enough for anyone to hide in the dungeons until the O.W.L.
Yet, when Snape had entered the Great Hall at dinnertime, he had ignored the pointed fingers and mocking grins with a dignity that James had found extraordinary. Sitting in his usual place, Snape acted with such nonchalance that James thought, for a moment, that what had happened that morning had been nothing more than a collective hallucination.
Unfortunately, the Slytherin's bandages proved otherwise: a large gauze pad covered his left cheekbone and bandages wrapped his gnarled hands, almost doubling the thickness of his fingers. Others protruded from the collar of his shirt to form a tiny ruff around his neck. He must have been in agony - in fact, James couldn't understand why Madam Pomfrey had let him out of the infirmary - but he wasn't showing it. As usual, he displayed a determination that commanded respect, which made James feel a terrible jealousy that he tried to ignore.
Curiously, the other Slytherins were acting as if nothing had happened. Not one of them had looked up at Snape. This had left James confused. How could they remain silent in the face of what had happened? At first, James had thought it was absurd. Then, as he watched them, he realized that it wasn't respect or any kind of modesty that drove the Slytherins to do this.
It was fear.
If Snape had long been a lonely boy, he had made some new friends since September. They were generally older students, and James hadn't paid much attention to them but, tonight, Lucius Malfoy, the Slytherin prefect, and the Black sisters had joined the group. They formed around Snape a gloomy assembly that the others seemed to avoid out of fear of reprisal.
James looked for a moment at the pinched looks of Narcissa and Bellatrix, whose reputation as little pests was well-established. They had inherited this cold beauty, a characteristic of the Black family. Narcissa was tall and blonde. Her extreme thinness and cold demeanor had earned her the nickname "The Airstream" by Sirius. Bellatrix, on the other hand, had a baby-like appearance with a round, pale face framed by thick black hair. This childlike look was counterbalanced by the drooping corners of her lips, which gave her a surprisingly serious expression at all times. She fascinated most boys James knew. He would have found her beautiful too if he hadn't known how crazy she was. Sirius called her "Bellafreak" and, from what he'd told James about her, it really suited her.
As enchanting as the two girls were, their presence was almost erased by that of Lucius Malfoy. His blond, almost white hair and fair skin made him resemble a veela. He was a pure product of the wixen nobility, except that he suffered no defect. Malfoy was as tall as Sirius and gifted in every way. He was the best duelist in the school, excelled in potions, and his essays were often used as examples during exams.
As if that wasn't enough, Malfoy was also captain of his Quidditch team and played seeker, a position James had been hoping to obtain since he entered Hogwarts. But seriously, how did this guy play so well? The position of seeker required speed and the ability to slip easily between the stadium posts. It was a role for the shorter players, like James but, no one seemed to understand that. Especially not Julius Fincher, captain of the Gryffindors, who had rejected him again this year.
"No, James, I think you belong more on the team as a chaser. Besides, Maddy is an excellent seeker. It's best to leave things as they are."
Lucius Malfoy. Julius Fincher. Maddy Nielsen.
James hated them all.
He watched Malfoy strut around through gritted teeth. The prefect had leaned over to Snape, with that little smirk he always wore, and whispered in his ear. Oh, how he could hate Lucius's face so mu- Fuck, was it him or did Snivellus just blush? No. It couldn't be...
However, James soon realized he wasn't dreaming. Snape's still visible cheek had turned a bright red, and a goofy smile had taken over his face. Big Nose looked ecstatic. What the hell had Malfoy said to him? Snivellus was almost unrecognizable. Well, the fact that he was part of Malfoy's fan club wasn't surprising in itself, but he was reacting in such a... surprising way...
It pissed James off.
"James!"
Sirius had just joined them but James did not pay attention. "Mmh."
"Uh... Are you okay?"
"Yes."
Across from them, Snape still looked troubled. Damn it, what the hell had Malfoy been telling him?
Sirius asked a new question that James ignored, letting Peter answer for him. A sinister young man who had just sat down between Snape and the Black sisters was now getting his full attention.
"Sirius, can you tell me who is sitting next to Snivellus and your cousins?"
It was Peter who answered, obviously embarrassed, "Uh... James... Sirius's not here anymore..."
Of course. It would have been too simple otherwise...
"But I think his name is Rodolphus Lestrange..."
"Oh?"
For once Peter knew something!
James turned to him, smiling. "Peter. You and I are going to team up."
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
James and Peter had finally managed to identify them all: Rodolphus Lestrange, Alvy Avery, William Wilkes, Evan Rosier, and Fabius Mulciber. Pure-blooded wizards with a fondness for dark magic. Nothing surprising so far. No, what was really strange was how they had suddenly all come together. Something must have happened this summer, outside of Hogwarts. Something that didn't bode well, especially if it had ended up attracting the entire Black family. Regulus had now joined the group and sat down next to Narcissa, who greeted him with a warm pat on the shoulder, an unusual smile on her face.
James frowned before murmuring, "I don't know what the hell they're all doing together, but it looks suspicious. We'll have to keep an eye on them."
"Are you... Are you sure, James?", replied Peter, clearly unenthused about this spy mission, "I mean... Maybe they're just friends."
"Just friends? That bunch of psychopaths? Oh no, they're up to no good. Look, because of them, nobody pays any attention to Big Nose! While what happened to him was... Terrible... I mean, terribly humiliating! If nobody says anything, it's because they scare the others! Believe me, Peter, they are dangerous!"
James clenched his fists as he glared at the group of Purebloods.
Peter studied him for a long time. He eventually replied, "I have a feeling that their support for Snape is bothering you..."
Across from them, Malfoy had, as usual, become the center of attention. From the laughter around the table, he seemed to be telling a funny story. Snape was laughing too, a laugh that James had never heard before, unsarcastic, open. He suddenly exuded a candor that made him unrecognizable. James widened his eyes and gazed at the scene in a daze feeling overcome by a sudden fever.
"Of course, it bothers me! Look at Snape, grinning and wiggling his ass at Malfoy and his fucking hair! No, seriously, it can't, naturally, be that white! And Snivellus looking at him with his mouth agape!"
"James, I..."
Peter's voice was muffled by the shock of James's fist against the table.
"Look! Look at the way Snape is smiling, like nothing happened, with his skinny body and his little protruding ribs... You'd see them bend when he crawls, it's fascinating..."
James could see them so clearly again, Snape's little ribs. His spine that pointed like a fin... His white and pink skin...
James shook his head sharply and tried to focus on the Slytherins again. They had finished eating and were about to leave. Malfoy led the way and everyone followed.
James jumped to his feet, almost roaring, "They're leaving! We have to follow them!"
"But I haven't even finished my..."
The look James gave him dissuaded Peter from finishing his sentence. Letting out a discreet sigh, he followed the Marauders' leader.
James and Peter trailed the group of Slytherins to the entrance hall where the multiple staircases leading to the castle floors started. As usual, the stairs were in constant motion, leaving little time for the students to change landings.
"We're going to have to be careful," James muttered, "If we let them get too far away, we'll lose them but, if we get too close, they'll suspect something."
"We can't take that chance," replied Peter in a shaky voice. "If they find out we're following them, it could get out of hand. There are too many of them."
"I know, I know. We'll let them get away for a while and see where they stop."
"Maybe it's pointless to follow them. Maybe they're just going into their dungeon."
Peter and his legendary cowardice. James sighed exasperatedly, "Since when do Slytherins use the main stairs to get to their dungeons, Peter?"
"Since I'm afraid of being targeted by ten wannabe black mages..."
Peter's uncharacteristic repartee unnerved James, so he remained silent, content to take the first staircase to position himself at the very top of the steps. He stood on his tiptoes and craned his neck to watch the Slytherins. They seemed to be heading for the seventh floor, where the entrance to the Gryffindor common room was.
"Looks like they're going to our house. What the hell are they doing on the seventh?"
Beside him, Peter shrugged, "Maybe they're going to see Flitwick. His office is there too. Or maybe they're going to the divination room or the reading room."
James raised an eyebrow. "There's a reading room on the seventh floor?"
"Well, yeah, there always has been. By Merlin, James, do you ever study?"
"I... Well..."
Peter was definitely spending way too much time with Remus. He had just reproduced the werewolf's exasperated look to perfection. James felt somewhat disoriented. Maybe Peter was right after all and the Slytherins were just going to work together...
Yet, James felt that something was wrong.
When they reached the seventh floor, the hallway was empty. The divination room and Flitwick's office were closed so the only thing left was the reading room. Peter pointed to its entrance, a discreet door almost hidden in a corner of the hallway, and the two slipped in silently.
The place was cramped with rows of dusty books and small dark wooden tables. James walked up the main aisle in just a few steps, only to land at the end of the room and find... no one was there. Well, not "no one"; there were a couple of young Ravenclaws chatting in the corner but, other than that, no sign of Snape and his gang. Where could they have gone?
James scratched the back of his neck. Puzzled, he called out to the students, "Hey, did you two see any Slytherins come by?"
The Ravenclaws looked at him curiously, shaking their heads. James was left speechless. Confused, he walked away from the two students to circle the room again, thinking, trying to unravel the situation. Peter was obediently following him. From time to time, he made small, unpleasant throat noises, a sign that he wanted to say something but, James stubbornly ignored him, convinced that his intervention would not help.
The situation was frustrating. Snape and his friends seemed to have vanished. Yet, he had seen them go up to the seventh floor. He may have been wearing glasses, but he wasn't so blind as to have passed them without realizing it. This day was decidedly strange. Nothing made sense. First Snape had... well... he had been... by their fault. Then he had suddenly reappeared at dinner time only to magically disappear once more.
Magically...
James heard a click and stopped dead in his tracks between the shelves. Peter bumped into him and gave a little squeak, but James didn't pay attention. He had just figured it out. Snape and his gang had used a secret passage. A passage the Marauders didn't know about. How could that be? They were sure they had searched the entire castle.
"James?"
Peter stared at him worriedly, but James waved him off, looking at the room again, spinning around to try to catch a glimpse of a clue, something that might conceal a passage. There was a large suit of armor in a corner that could serve as an entrance but, if the Slytherins had been there, the Ravenclaws would have seen them. So it was impossible. Unless...
"Unless they were involved..."
"James, what are you talking about?"
James intimated for Peter to remain silent. Looking suddenly suspicious, he leaned over to peer through the shelves at the other students.
"Do you know them?"
Peter looked at the students incredulously. "Who? Them? No. They're Ravenclaws, and besides, they look like they're first years. James, can you explain to me what's going on?"
"Okay. Imagine. Snape and his gang are nowhere to be found because they used a secret passage and, what better entrance to a secret passage than a reading room where no one ever goes?"
"What? No! There are plenty of people who come into this room, it's just you who…"
James didn't let him finish, carried away with his theory. "They have their lair right here, right next to the Gryffindors' common room, to taunt us."
Peter's eyebrows raised so high they were now hidden by his blonde bangs. He opened his mouth, puzzled, seeming to search for his words, "O… Okay… And, how do you explain the fact that the Ravenclaws didn't see them come in?"
"Very simple, they pay them to guard the entrance. Malfoy is rich, so are the Blacks, it makes sense."
Convinced he had found the key to the mystery, James expected a standing ovation. All he got was a long, baffled silence.
Peter, who was usually the first to praise his ideas, was staring at him with concern. "James. Are you okay?"
James rolled his eyes. "What? Come on! It's not that crazy! There's got to be an explanation! They can't teleport!"
"I learned what happened in potions class this morning."
James stiffened at those words. He didn't really want to have this conversation right now. In fact, he'd rather never have it and just bury it in a corner of his mind. "It was a simple accident. No need to make a big deal of it."
Unfortunately, Peter didn't look convinced. "Snape caught fire. Snape. The best potions student in the whole school. That's a bit weird, isn't it?"
James gave him a sidelong glance and Peter sighed before insisting, "Jeez, James, Snape almost died. It must have been a bit traumatic, right? I mean... Neither you nor Sirius talked about it... Well, yes, Sirius made a few jokes about it but I've never seen him so uncomfortable. It was like he was forcing himself to make them. And you... You didn't say a word all day and, when Snape came back for dinner, you went crazy. Now you're telling me that Snape and Malfoy have a secret lair in the castle and they're paying Ravenclaws to guard it. I'm... I'm worried about you. So I'm asking if you're okay."
James remained silent, his eyes fixed on his shoes. What did Peter want him to say? Of course, he was not okay. His body was hurting from all the potions he was taking. He felt weak and useless. He had failed the Quidditch tryouts again and had to settle once more for a position he hated. The power of this year's spells was beginning to cause him problems. The girl he was madly in love with would prefer Snape, his worst enemy. He was starting to feel inferior to him, even though he was the person he despised the most. Then, this morning, he had almost killed him because of a stupid joke that was now traumatizing him. Meanwhile, Snape was doing great and had even made friends with Lucius Malfoy, the best student in school.
Why was it that, no matter what the situation, he always ended up feeling overwhelmed?
"You're right, Peter. They aren't here. I was wrong."
He turned on his heel and walked back to the exit with his head down while Peter let out another sigh. "You have something to do with this, don't you? James, wait for me... I-"
"Why weren't you there this morning anyway?", James suddenly asked. "Did you call in sick because, without Remus to help you, you knew you were going to screw up big time?"
James knew this to be true. Whenever Remus was too sick to participate in an exam, Peter would suddenly suffer from violent nausea. He may not have been a brilliant student, but when it came to getting out of trouble, he was capable of some pretty clever tricks. James suspected Peter had been secretly making a vomiting potion. Hopefully, his accusations would allow him to escape their conversation.
His ploy worked and Peter turned bright red.
"Wh-What? No, it's not that! I... I mean, yes, but, come on... We're talking about you here! Not about me!"
"No joke, did you really manage to do that? How did you do it? Did you find a spell in a book or did you create it?"
"I created it myself. I didn't want Madam Pomfrey to get rid of it easily, so I made an existing spell more complex. I was inspired by the Slug-Vomiting Charm..."
James smiled bitterly. While he was glad that Peter was good at spells, knowing that he could invent them as he pleased reminded him of his own incompetence when it came to magic.
"My word, you're really good! You're definitely going to end up working with your father at the ministry if you keep this up! That said, you could still have given us the benefit of it! That would have prevented us from getting an F in potions!"
More importantly, it would have saved them from immolating Snape, James thought as he opened the door to the reading room.
"But I didn't want to test it on you because I wasn't sure of the side effects yet!", Peter defended himself. "Believe me, it saved me but it was really not pleasant! I thought I was going to die! I... I even spit out a slug. That wasn't supposed to happen. And it was disgusting... Plus, I had to put it in my pocket so the nurse wouldn't see it. Frankly, I'm not ready to work in the magical accident department. Let alone the department of mysteries... In fact, I-"
"Peter."
James had frozen on the landing. Ahead of them, Rodolphus Lestrange and Evan Rosier were walking along, talking in low voices. They were coming from down the hall which led to a dead end. There was no doubt about it. James remained calm and waited for them to take the grand staircase before running toward the place they had left. He was right! There was indeed a secret passage! He was not completely crazy!
Looking triumphant, he turned back to Peter. "I told you so! There's a secret passage here!"
He had said this with such glee that Peter couldn't help but smile. "Yes. You were right, James."
James let out a laugh as he carefully investigated the walls of the hallway, hoping to spot some kind of secret entrance, but he found nothing. Nothing but a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Fool's attempt to teach trolls to dance ballet. A ridiculous attempt that ended in bloody failure. It was one of the few things he had learned in History of Magic class.
James hesitated for a moment before lifting the tapestry but found only the cold wall of the castle. Distraught, he cast a Dissendium, which of course, had no effect.
There had to be a secret passage somewhere. Another one that the Marauders didn't know about. This castle was definitely too big. Even in fifth year, they had trouble getting to know every corner of it. If only there were a map, a magical map that would show all the rooms in the castle, even the most secret ones. Better than that, a map that could show the location of every person in Hogwarts... A map that would allow them to track everyone.
Holy gargoyle. It wasn't a stupid idea.
"Peter."
Peter, who was staring at the wall absently, looked up in James's direction. "Yes?"
"Let's go to the library."
"Don't you want to stay, and see if any other Slytherins come here?"
James shook his head. "No. We don't know where they are. Maybe they've all left already. We'll follow them better next time. In the meantime, I just had an idea and, I want to know if it's possible."
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
James and Peter had borrowed every cartography-related manuscript they could find, as well as books on advanced spells. After casting a Leviosa, they were once again on their way to the seventh floor, followed by two huge piles of books when they passed Lily, accompanied by Mary Macdonald.
The redhead couldn't help but whistle admiringly at their sight. "Well, well, well! And I thought only Remus could read!"
The parallels between Lily's insulting jokes and Snape's were becoming more and more obvious. She seemed to realize this as she immediately apologized, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to say something funny."
His lips pursed, James hesitated to retort before finally giving up. As usual, Lily had hit the nail on the head, but he did not feel like making any remark back to her. The way she was smiling and looking at them... Lily was sad and it was probably because of what had happened to Snape.
Because of what he had done to Snape.
James' stomach knotted up. Did she suspect him of something? No. If she had, she would have jumped down his throat by now.
Lily had fallen silent and neither James nor Peter dared to restart the conversation, remaining facing her, arms flailing. Mary finally cleared her throat and Lily seemed to come to her senses. She excused herself once more before heading for the stairs that had just reached their floor. Hesitantly, she looked at the stairs before finally turning back to the boys.
"James, Peter... I just wanted to tell you... about Severus..."
This time, James's stomach contracted to the point of pain. Eyes fixed on his feet, he mumbled, "We're sorry for what happened to him. Even he didn't deserve that..."
Normally he would have only said that so as not to upset her, but this time he was surprised at his sincerity. Snape didn't deserve this. Not with all the injuries he already had...
Snape's scarred body came back to him in a flash and James shivered.
Lily nodded slowly. "You know... He... You mustn't be too hard on him. I know you don't like him. I can understand that, but you don't know what he goes through when he's not at Hog-"
She didn't have time to finish as Snape appeared into the hall, Mulciber hot on his heels. James' heart missed a beat. Once again, his appearance was unexpected. With a straight face, Snape walked down the stairs with a stiff, measured gait. Snape, so ugly and yet so strong. How was he able to maintain complete control of his body after the injuries he had sustained? James didn't know. He, himself, felt like ivy that had been unhooked from its branch, a limp and deformed stem.
James' saliva turned sour. He was torn between jealousy and guilt. The mixture of the two tasted like bile.
Though Snape smiled at the redhead, his face became marmoreal coldness at the sight of James. Seeing him with Lily displeased him greatly. Within seconds, the atmosphere became electric. Snape's eyes, black and opaque, came to pierce his soul and James felt that if he looked away now, he would back away from them for the rest of his life.
No, he wasn't going to let it happen. Not now. Not in front of Lily.
Despite the almost palpable tension, James was overcome by a dark bliss. He and Snape, fighting over Lily... The situation was almost routine and even strangely comforting. Maybe, if he were lucky, Snape would end up throwing a cruel taunt at him, and James could finally forget himself in anger. In a saving contempt that would wipe out all his compassion, silence all his complexes. Maybe life could go back to normal and he could forget about Snape's strange, angular body crawling on the pavement...
Mulciber's deep voice snapped James back to reality, "Potter, in case you haven't noticed, you and your little friends are completely blocking the way. Get your books out of there."
Mulciber was a sixth-year and looked like a body-built cherub, tall and burly but with a thin face and curly blonde hair that encircled his head like a halo. In terms of pure strength, he was clearly superior to James. However, Mulciber was also known to be even more cowardly than Peter and generally slow on the uptake. James knew that, despite his small stature, this idiot would never dare to come at him head-on.
Staring at Snape once more, James asked in a falsely admiring tone, "Wow, Snivellus, you found yourself a moron to play security guard?"
"James!"
Lily was outraged but James ignored her. What he wanted was Snape. The latter grimaced, visibly annoyed. Just as he was about to retaliate, Mulciber tried to walk over to James and unintentionally hit Snape's cheek, right on the Slytherin's bandage.
Snape's eyes lost their belligerent glow and his skin turned as white as the gauze that adorned his cheekbone. He wobbled before catching himself on the railing, obviously in pain.
"Severus!"
There had been two of them shouting his name, but James's voice had drowned out Lily's. He'd screamed out of instinct. With Severus, it was all his desire for a return to normalcy that was crumbling.
"Are you okay?"
James had stepped across the meager space between him and the Slytherin, kneeling beside him. Realizing that Severus had been far more impacted by their silly joke than he had thought had overwhelmed him with a sudden and irrational terror. He grabbed him without thinking, helping him to stand up straight. His fingers must have pressed on one of the Slytherin's burns because he started to groan.
James immediately apologized, "Sorry. You're not in too much pain?"
It was the first time he'd seen Snape so vulnerable. He felt so close to him, almost on equal footing. Often Snape had seemed older to him, because of his intelligence and the cynicism he displayed in all circumstances. Along with his dark humor, far from the childish jokes James could make with the Marauders. Even his expressions seemed more mature as if he had already lived longer than they had. The genuine surprise on his face at this moment gave him a new youthfulness.
His features looked almost pleasant.
A lock of hair crossed the Slytherin's face and James reflexively pushed it aside. An oily texture remained on his fingers. All these years, James had wondered what exactly that sour smell was that Snape gave off. For the first time, perhaps because it was stronger than usual, he could identify it.
"You smell like draconite sulfur."
James smelled the substance on his fingers again. Across from him, Snape looked at him a little sheepishly, "Yes. I'm working on a Draconite Sulphur potion for my potioneer competition..."
"Potioneer? You didn't even finish Hogwarts..."
"You have to know how to think big."
The answer drew a smile from James. Snape, as serious as ever. Nevertheless, the smell reminded him of something else. Something familiar.
"I know that smell, it smells like... It smells like the medicine I take..."
That's it. It was coming back to him. This unpleasant smell. That of his potion against dwarfism that he had to take once a week. With the terrible taste that coated his throat every time. Was that why he couldn't stand Snape? Because he reminded him how sick he was?
The look he gave the Slytherin instantly made him regret his words. Snape's face had tightened. Had he... had he guessed?
"Draconite Sulphur is used in potions to cure skin disorders and those fighting bone disease and dwarfism. It helps the bones to grow and strengthen."
Oh no.
Mulciber began to laugh, "Dwarfism? Now that I think about it, it's true that you are very short on legs. Any chance we're having little growing pains, Potter?"
Mucliber's mocking remarks hit James right in the heart. A terrible mixture of anger and panic fear invaded him. With a livid face, he turned back to the tall blond. "Wh-what did you just say, asshole?"
He had wanted to sound firm but his voice had faltered. A toothy grin took place on Mulciber's face as he seemed to revel in the situation. "No shit? Don't tell me it's true! Do you really have growing pains? Is that why you fit so well with the first years?"
"No, it's... It's not that at all! I don't have problems!"
"Is it because you have an inferiority complex that you persecute others with your little gang? You're a midget and that makes you snippy?"
His voice echoed throughout the hall and James' forehead broke out in a thick sweat. He reflexively shot a panicked look at Lily, who was looking at him with wide eyes, obviously embarrassed. Shit. Was she ashamed of him? Behind her, he thought he saw Mary smiling and Peter was staring at him as if he was a fucking ghost...
James' cheeks burned. "Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!"
He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Mulciber. The latter lost his mocking look and took a step back. "Whoa, calm down! It's not my fault if you're a gnome!"
James was about to cast a spell on him, but a pressure on his neck made him hold back. Snape had just placed his own wand against his carotid artery.
"You're panicking, Potter."
Snape looked... odd. Normally he would have viciously mocked him, but here... he was holding back. Was it pity? "You're panicking, Potter." He could have finished him off a thousand times over and that was all he could think of to say? Was this a new way of mocking him?
Worse, did Snape feel sorry for him?
James searched almost desperately for the Slytherin's gaze. He needed him. His lifelong enemy. He needed to see that nothing had changed.
The way Snape looked away destroyed his meager hope for a return to normalcy.
Snape spared him. As if James was unable to defend himself.
It was a fucking nightmare.
He had to restore the situation.
He just wanted everything to be the way it was before…
"Shut up, you too! If I were you, I wouldn't even dare walk around the castle! By the way, nice show you put on this morning! I loved the pyrotechnic effects! Your ghoul imitation was not bad either, but they are a little less ugly in general... And more dressed up too..."
Please make everything the same as before.
James didn't know if it was his wish that had just been granted but he suddenly felt a violent pain in his nose. It took him a few seconds to realize that Snape's forehead had just crushed against his face. Shit. He had not thought that he would attack him physically.
"SEVERUS! JAMES! STOP!"
Lily tried to intervene, but Mulciber swatted her away with his arm, knocking her to the ground. The rest happened surprisingly quickly. Snape charged James again, rushing at him to send them over the railing of the stairs.
There was a brief fall, followed by a scream.
James opened his eyes. His nose hurt like hell and he had blood in his mouth. A few feet away, Peter was leaning over the railing, his wand pointed in his direction.
Was he levitating? He couldn't feel the ground...
A new scream rang out and he saw Lily's redhead whizzing down the stairs.
"SEVERUS! SEVERUS!"
She was rushing towards the first floor. James turned his head as best he could.
He could see it now. Two floors down.
Severus' skinny body, folded in on itself like a spider, in a pool of blood.
This time he'd really screwed up.
___________________________________________________________________________
Remus suddenly opened his eyes and sat up to vomit mud. The mixture of bile and dirt had a foul taste and texture and it took him several minutes to expel it all.
The little pond had doubled in size after a torrential downpour and had nearly swallowed him but, Remus didn't know that. He had forgotten the boathouse and the mouse, the rocks and the tadpoles. Lost in the middle of the water, deep in the night and far from the lights of the castle, he just felt as if he was swimming in the void.
A thunderclap resounded in the distance, ending the silence, and the rain fell again. At first, it was a relief, Remus sighed with pleasure as he lifted his chin, letting the large drops run down his face, removing the taste of gall from his mouth. All too soon the downpour turned into a deluge and his instincts screamed at him to take cover.
The Gryffindor tried to lean on his hands to get up, but they refused to move. They were blue and swollen. Water and cold had stiffened and wrinkled them until they cracked.
He seemed to be frozen...
Frozen... He was frozen.
Remus groaned. He had just reconnected to the world and the world was hurting him. He could feel it now, the bite of the icy air on his body. The storm was rushing through the wet fabric of his uniform to devour his flesh.
He was going to die if he stayed here.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by another that struck one of the pillars of the Quidditch stadium. Remus tried to stand up but quickly lost his balance, his feet slipping into the mud. He whimpered in despair, resolving to crawl clumsily towards the shore with his face half-submerged, almost drowning at every movement. Violent gusts of wind punctuated his course, forcing him sometimes to stop and curl up on himself, overcome by the cold. If he could, he would have screamed, but his tight throat only let through meager sighs, which were immediately stifled by the storm.
He finally managed to get out of the pond, his elbows digging into the earth to drag his body to the shore. He emptied his lungs of the viscous water that had filled them and found refuge under a large rock, his muddy body merging with the dirt that covered the edges of the pond until it was indistinguishable.
Remus remained for a few moments, shivering against the rock, tensing with each new thunderclap. A sharp pain, far more acute than the others, stabbed through his chest. Something in his pocket was piercing his ribs.
Grunting, he tried to contort himself to catch the object, his numb fingers succeeding only after many times to seize what seemed to be a long piece of wood.
A long piece of wood... What the hell was it doing there?
Remus brought it up to his face, watching it for a moment, confused before his eyes widened.
His wand. It was his wand.
A sudden warmth invaded his body and Remus managed to draw on the last of his strength to stand upright in the midst of the storm, his eyes still riveted on the object. With this, he could go back to the castle... A spell. All he had to do was cast a spell... He had to find one, deep in his numb mind. One that would allow him to find a way out of the darkness...
If only he could create a tiny light…
A tiny light...
"Lumos..."
Despite his strangled, almost inaudible voice and vague gesture, a bluish glow appeared at the end of his wand. Remus felt tears of happiness roll down his already-soaked cheeks and tried to say a "Thank you" that was lost in violent sobs. His swollen hand brought the wand to his side and he refused to take his eyes off the light, afraid it would disappear.
Finally... He was going to be able to go home and end this nightmare.
A slight smile came to his purplish lips and, moved by a new strength, he walked toward the gentle slope that led to the castle. His trembling hand waved the wand in front of him before suddenly freezing.
Below, a creature was watching him.