12

From Four to Five

Moony yipped a greeting to his pack of a stag, a rat, and a dog. But he growled in confusion when he encountered the unfamiliar fifth member of the party. The rust-colored wolf was slightly bigger than he, with startling green eyes. His posture was non-confrontational. Wolf-Harry tensed slightly as Moony drew closer, sniffing suspiciously, but he offered no challenge. There was something about the new wolf, something familiar, it seemed. As though the rust-colored wolf was already a part of his pack—was already his alpha. His posture said, I don't want a fight.

After a moment and no sign of hostility from Moony, wolf-Harry carefully raised himself to his feet. The dog and the stag were looking at him with confusion and respect—perhaps they, too, felt like he was always meant to be part of their pack.

A faint scurrying sound reached wolf-Harry's ears. He looked down to see a brown rat sniffing at his left forepaw. The little animal's bright, intelligent eyes studied the larger wolf for some minutes, evaluating. Wolf-Harry tensed. Then the rat squeaked in approval and crawled up the wolf's paw to his shoulder before coming to rest on his head, right between the wolf's ears.

The little rat's actions seemed to have been a sign or a signal to the others, because immediately after, the huge bearlike dog barked happily, then playfully pounced on Moony. The stag looked on with strangely hazel eyes glinting in amusement.

The night passed calmly. The werewolf was more than content to wrestle and play with whoever seemed willing. He got extra-hyper after midnight, though, and a little more aggressive. Padfoot was tired out and Prongs was unwilling to use his antlers, wolf-Harry jumped in and wrestled the tawny werewolf into submission quite happily while Wormtail scurried around and between their paws, squeaking happily and perhaps cheering for his chosen champion—which seemed to be Harry.

Finally, as the sky grew darkest just before dawn, all the animals had tired themselves out. One after another, they fell asleep in a heap. Wormtail took up his position once more atop wolf-Harry's head, which leaned against Prongs's hindquarters. Padfoot lay sprawled across wolf-Harry's back paws with Moony beside him and slightly on top of him.

They stayed that way until moonset, when Moony's convulsions woke the group. The transformation back was just as difficult to watch as the first time, and when it was over Remus lay naked in a shuddering heap on the cold hardwood floor. Padfoot immediately transformed back and retrieved the blanket from earlier. Then Prongs, Wormtail, and wolf-Harry returned to human form. With a promise to visit Remus in the hospital wing after breakfast, the other four returned to the castle, tired and sore but content.

For the first time, as they tromped up to the hospital wing after breakfast, Harry truly felt like part of their group. They were too tired to discuss Harry's sudden revelations the previous night, but there were no suspicious looks or asides. Despite having questions, it seemed the others had accepted Harry as one of them. And he couldn't be more thrilled.

When they got to the infirmary, Remus was still asleep. Despite being mostly uninjured, the transformation still took a huge toll on his body. So Harry, James, Sirius, and Peter headed back to the dorm to catch a few hours' sleep as well, seeing as it was the weekend.

They woke around lunchtime one by one. But instead of going down to the Great Hall, Peter suggested they get food from the kitchens and bring it back up. Harry volunteered to help, since James and Sirius claimed they were too tired for such a trek. He hadn't had much chance to talk one-on-one with Peter, and after seeing him last night, Harry found himself wanting to get to know the fourth Marauder better on a personal level, rather than relying on what he'd been told and judging the boy in the past by the actions of his adult self.

While the house elves scurried around the kitchen getting a selection of foods ready, Harry turned to Peter.

"What did that mean last night, when you climbed onto my head right after the transformation? It felt significant, but I don't get it."

Peter flushed a little. "Rats are supposed to be good judges of character. And…I've always had a gut feeling about people. So it kind of makes sense. If I like or trust someone, the others usually listen to me. Usually," he repeated for emphasis. "The few times they haven't listened to me, it hasn't worked out well for them," he added with a smile. "So, when I climbed onto your head last night, it meant I trusted you. So they're happy to follow along."

Harry felt his face heat up, but he morphed it away. "Thanks, Pete," Harry replied embarrassedly.

Peter flushed again under Harry's praise. "It's nothing. I like you. You're a good fit for us," he admitted embarrassedly. Then he spoke again with more confidence. "I think it's brilliant that you're an Animagus, and that you came to help with Moony last night."

"Thanks," Harry said again. "I think your form is brilliant, too. It fits you." And Harry intended no irony or criticism with it.

Any further conversation was cut off as the house elves thrust a hamper of food each into Harry's and Peter's hands, exclaiming in gratitude for being allowed to serve and asking if there was anything else they could do. Harry was almost painfully reminded of Dobby the house-elf and hoped the house elves were more than happy in their job.

Eventually Harry and Peter managed to shake the Hogwarts elves off by promising to come back soon with more mouths to feed, then, grinning in amusement, they headed back up to Gryffindor tower.

When they arrived, they found Remus lounging with James and Sirius in the middle of the room, playing Exploding Snap. But the game was immediately abandoned when the food was revealed. They all dug in with gusto and for the next ten minutes or so, the only sounds to be heard were chewing and requests to pass this or that. The food disappeared quickly, as only a group of teenaged boys can manage. But finally, as they were finishing off the last of the desserts, conversation turned to the topic they'd all been waiting to broach with Harry.

"Not to offend or anything, but why the hell are you an Animagus?" Sirius demanded. "No one does it just for fun! Especially since it's illegal to do it while underage."

"That didn't stop you," Harry muttered.

"What was that?"

"It wasn't for fun," Harry said. "I—I had my reasons," he hedged. He'd been hoping as the day went on that they'd just forget about it, but no such luck. Hopefully they'd still respect his privacy.

"How long have you been an Animagus, then?" James asked. "To be that fluid in the transformation, it has to be a while, right?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "It's been almost four months now."

"Four months?" Remus burst out.

"You're kidding, right?" Sirius asked in disbelief.

Harry shook his head.

"It took us more than six months to get the transformation down that easily!" Peter exclaimed. "When did you start?"

Harry's expression turned sheepishly again. "Not quite six months ago."

"What?!"

"Are you crazy?" Remus exclaimed, horrified. "Spending the full moon with a werewolf with so little experience? What if you'd reverted by accident in the middle of the night?"

"Easy, Moony," Sirius said nervously. "We joined you as soon as we made the transformation fully the first time."

"That's because I was fourteen and desperate," Remus growled. Then he rounded on Harry. "You could have been killed last night! What kind of idiot volunteers on the fly to be a werewolf's chew toy?"

Harry shrank back from Remus's ferocity. His lack of confidence really hurt, especially because Remus was the whole reason Harry had become an Animagus in the first place, albeit it was future-Remus. "I had someone I wanted to help and the ability to do so," Harry stated firmly. "The same as James, Sirius, and Peter."

"That doesn't make it okay," Remus growled again.

"Look," Harry began, getting frustrated now. "Nothing happened last night. I know how to handle myself. This isn't the first time I've been in this situation!"

"What?!" It was irrelevant who had spoken; they all had the same question stamped across their faces. Too late, Harry realized what he'd said. Immediately he wished he could take it back. But they were hardly going to let this go.

"You're not the first werewolf I've known," Harry clarified before they could ask. "My—my godfather was a werewolf, too." Well, honorary godfather, anyway. It was no use keeping future-Sirius and future-Remus separate when it came to his story in the past. To anyone concerned, they were one in the same, even though to Harry they were two distinct people he had loved and lost, albeit in different ways. "That's why I became an Animagus in the first place—to help him. He'd come home battered and exhausted, and I hated seeing him that way. So as soon as I was old enough, I became an Animagus. I only got to spend two full moons with him before—before coming to school, but I wasn't going in blind," Harry finished firmly.

Remus opened his mouth to continue arguing, but Peter jumped in before he could.

"As much as I admire that…you barely know us. Why bother with a group of strangers?

"You're not strangers," Harry insisted, perhaps a little too forcefully, because they all looked a little taken aback. "You're not strangers," Harry repeated more calmly. "You're my friends. It doesn't matter how long we've been friends; what matters is what we've been through together. And between detentions and the dementor and the pranks you've roped me into, I think it's safe to say we're friends."

"But—" Remus began.

"He joined us on a full moon, Moony. And at his own calculated risk, too," James pointed out. "He doesn't care that you're a werewolf, which is more than I can say for the majority of the wizarding population. No matter what other objections you have, I can't think of a better way for him to prove his loyalty and trustworthiness."

"Unless you have some other, personal objection," Sirius stated, moving into a protective stance in front of Harry. Harry's throat tightened, and then he squeezed his eyes shut as he recalled the last time Sirius had tried to protect him, and ended up dying for it.

"Remember what I told you yesterday, Remus? And what you said?" Harry asked quietly, trying not to show the hurt he felt, for several different reasons.

Remus's eyes widened slightly as he recalled their interaction the afternoon before. "No, nothing like that. I just…" he trailed off, having no more objections.

"Then what's your problem?" Peter spoke up, uncharacteristically bold. "I like him," he declared. Harry smiled as he recalled the words they'd exchanged in the kitchens earlier.

Remus opened his mouth, then sighed. "I guess I really don't have one. I'm just worried, is all."

James rolled his eyes. "You worry too much, Moony."

"So is he one of us now?" Peter asked.

The other four exchanged a look and Harry's chest tightened in anticipation. This was the moment he both longed for and dreaded—their total acceptance.

"I think so," James said. "All in favor, say 'aye'."

"Aye," four voices replied in unison.

Harry swallowed hard and tried not to show the swirl of emotions that filled him at that acceptance.

"He needs a nickname, then," Sirius spoke up, grinning. "Any suggestions?"

"He should transform again, so we can study him properly," Peter said with a smile. Harry couldn't help smiling back.

"Shall I?" Harry asked. Remus cast a locking charm at the door to their dormitory, then everyone nodded. Smiling, Harry closed his eyes and let the transformation take him over.

Once transformed, Harry leapt onto Remus's lap, licking his face before settling his ninety-pound mass across his legs. Remus sputtered and tried to push wolf-Harry away, but wolf-Harry refused to move.

"Huh. You're smaller than I thought you were," Peter said.

Sirius snorted. "Of course he seemed big to you, Wormtail. You're miniscule compared to the rest of us. Of course, compared to me, he's practically a runt."

Wolf-Harry growled playfully and the others started tossing around names. Wolf-Harry growled at nearly every one of them, and pounced on Sirius when he suggested "Red."

"Russet," Remus suggested halfheartedly. Wolf-Harry yipped in approval and proceeded to bathe Remus's face with his tongue. "Ugh! Get away!" he protested, then he sputtered and cursed when wolf-saliva got in his mouth. The others laughed, and the newly-dubbed Russet let his tongue loll out in a wolfy grin.

"Russet?" James asked. "Moony, where do you come up with these names?"

Remus shrugged. "It's a gift."

"Hmm…Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Russet, and Prongs. I like it," Peter mused. Russet transferred his attentions to Peter and licked his face once in approval. Peter grimaced playfully and pushed the wolf off of him. Grinning, Russet transformed back into Harry (in full morph) and turned to face the others.

"Am I a Marauder now, then?"

"Yep," Sirius said, grinning. "We welcome thee, Russet, to the ranks of the Marauders, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers."

James snorted. "Did you come up with that tagline yourself, Padfoot?"

Sirius looked highly offended. "Of course I did. With help from Moony, of course."

"I had nothing to do with it," Remus declared. "It must have been Wormtail."

Peter looked askance. "It wasn't me!"

"Maybe Padfoot had a rare moment of intelligence?" Harry suggested, smirking. Sirius looked betrayed and the others dissolved into laughter.

"Yep, he's one of us, all right," Remus said through his laughter.

The following day—Sunday—was a lazy day for the Marauders. They slept in, having stayed up into the wee hours of the morning having a blast doing absolutely nothing. And then they spent the day the same way. There was some homework done, mostly by Harry and Remus, but for the most part they goofed off and celebrated another full moon gone well.

Late in the evening, Sirius and James were frantically trying to complete their homework due the following day. Remus was their taskmaster, making sure they actually did their work. Harry retired to the dorm. It wasn't late enough to go to bed, so he was planning to read for a bit. Peter followed him.

For a little while, there was companionable silence. Harry pulled out his Occlumency book and continued reading the section on fortifying one's mind. Peter got ready for bed. But once he was done, he approached Harry.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Harry replied, setting aside his book and moving his legs so there was room. Peter sat down beside him.

"I was just wondering…last night, you said your godfather was a werewolf. So I wanted to know…what happened."

Harry tried not to sigh. He still wasn't quite ready to share his entire backstory with them, edited though it was. "You know, you're probably the only one who caught on to that," Harry pointed out quietly.

Peter shrugged. "I notice a lot of things that others don't."

This time Harry did sigh, knowing Peter's short reply was all but an expectant inquiry. "He—my godfather, he…he died over the summer." Harry's voice caught slightly at an unexpected stab of grief.

"How did he die?"

Harry knew he could probably not answer and Peter would let it go. But for whatever reason, he felt compelled to reply. "He was killed...in a Death Eater raid." Harry averted his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself. It was half-true, at least.

If it had been Sirius asking the questions, it would have been ten times harder. But even so, the ache in his chest deepened and intensified. And Harry realized he hadn't really had a chance to grieve his godfather's death either, what with the revelation of the prophecy and then throwing himself into his studies in preparation to fulfill it. He'd all but pushed it aside, pretending there was nothing to feel. But now, he was surrounded by reminders. Most of the time he could ignore them. But there were times every now and then when it would hit him again that, even if he did find his way home, Sirius wouldn't be there waiting for him.

"Harry?"

Peter's voice pulled Harry out of his brooding. And he realized his cheeks were wet. He turned away and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, swallowing hard. "Sorry," Harry said hoarsely.

Peter squeezed Harry's shoulder. "It's okay. I imagine it still hurts."

Harry just nodded. After another moment of silence, Harry spoke again. "Could I be alone for a bit?" he asked, briefly raising his head to look back at Peter.

Peter nodded. "I'm here if you want to talk more," he offered.

Harry managed a faint smile. "Thanks."

"No problem." Peter got up and even closed the hangings around Harry's bed.

Once Harry was alone in the semidarkness, he pulled his knees up to his chest and tucked his chin against them. He didn't want to cry anymore. That was all of them but James who had seen him cry now. And James—his father—was the last person Harry wanted to show weakness in front of.