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Pony Stories


James and Sirius ran along the foundation of the castle, across the grounds, until they’d reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest at the far north side of the castle. They ducked into the trees near the edge, where they could still see through the trunks, but were unlikely to be seen themselves. They sat down, catching their breath, with their backs to a trunk, laughing to themselves.

“Good one, James,” Sirius said as he threw himself down into the dirt.

“Can’t believe we’ve just done that,” James said, grinning.

“Can’t believe it took us so long to do it!” Sirius replied.

“Yeah, blimey, that was boring,” James agreed, shaking his head, “I could feel my brain turning to mush.”

With a smirking grin, Sirius chided him, “Your brains are always mush when you’re looking at Evans… and let’s face it, that’s all you were doing.”

James laughed, “Yeah, well, she was more interesting than a bunch of flying specks.” He reached into his robes pocket and pulled out the two Zoobooks that Dora had sent along to them. “Besides, perhaps we can start out worthwhile studies.”

“Here, here!” Sirius said, taking hold on the Wolves book. He studied the majestic creature on the cover a moment before flipping open the cover and starting to read. James did, too, and the two of them sat there, the moonlight for a lamp, taking in information about the two creatures, now and then turning to one another to point out some fact they’d found in the book. “Alpha-male is the leader of the pack,” said Sirius, pointing to a photo that showed one wolf standing amongst a bunch of them lying about on the ground at his feet.

James looked at the photo.

“Says here,” Sirius continued, reading on, “That wolves that are alone - lone wolves - they get real vicious and nasty and they tend to be more likely to attack other wolves and try to demand the place of alpha in a new pack and these packs tend to be more volatile until another wolf takes over the position and puts the lone wolf as beta, which is second in charge, or even omega, which is like the lowest rank.”

“Remus would be a lone wolf, yeah?” James asked, “Since he doesn’t have a pack.”

Sirius rubbed his chin, “Do you reckon werewolves have packs?”

James shrugged, “Perhaps.”

Sirius considered this a moment, then he said, “So to become the alpha, the wolves will fight and whoever wins the fight is alpha and the loser becomes beta and submits to the alpha.”

“So you need to submit to Rey?” James asked.

Sirius hummed thoughtfully, “Well I tried that and he tried to eat me as a result, so…”

“Well it’s not as though you could fight - and win - against a werewolf,” James pointed out, “Snuffles isn’t a wolf, he’s a regular dog.”

Sirius nodded slowly, “And Remus isn’t a wolf, either, he’s a boy in wolf’s clothing, deep down.”

“Still more powerful than a regular dog,” James said.

“Maybe,” Sirius answered.

Wanting to get Sirius off the idea before he got some hairbrained scheme, James held his book up, “Look, there’s a chart here that shows you how to tell what kind of stag you’re looking at by it’s antlers. I’ll have to give this a go in the mirror later.”

Sirius looked over, “Hey that’s helpful.”

“Very, then I’ll be able to learn more specifically about my sort of deer and --”

There was a loud crack in the forest behind them, deeper among the trees and a way off. They looked at one another and James quickly took both books and shoved them into his robes as Sirius drew his wand from his pocket. He leaned ‘round the tree they were sitting by, squinting into the darkness, but could see nothing. “Stay here,” he hissed, and, before James could stop him, Sirius transformed into Snuffles and slunk away, low to the ground.

James stayed very still, listening to the darkness around him, staring out at the moonlight striking the castle across the grounds. And then he saw a figure sneaking out of the north entrance and running toward the trees, not too far from where he sat. He lowered himself, practically melting into the forest floor, trying to flatten himself as much as possible in the rutted roots of the tree where he was reclining. Heavy footsteps echoed, twigs cracking beneath feet. James practically held his breath… and then a shadow was cast over him and he could see the back of the figure’s head. He shifted as slowly as possible to see who it was.

It was Professor Veigler and he had a strange, almost fearful expression on his face, as he looked back at the school. He muttered something and a spell issued from his wand that James could see no result of. Then Veigler turned and ran on through the trees hurriedly.

James sat up after Veigler had gone, looking the way he’d sent the spell, but there was nothing there to see, and he looked back over his shoulder, wondering where Sirius was and if he’d seen Veigler as well and if he’d be able to track Veigler and find out what was going on. James wondered if he ought to go and get someone - Dumbledore or McGonagall or somebody, perhaps. He waited, poised and ready to run at the slightest sign of Sirius needing his help.




Sirius ran, his feet nearly silent as he moved through the trees. He felt like he was a part of the night itself, moving as though he was made of the world he was moving through. He could hear footsteps a ways off in the trees, and he slowly matched his pace to theirs, moving closer, more stealthily, wanting to come up the rear of whatever it was he was following. His canine senses were excellent for tracking - he almost didn’t have to think about it, his body just guided him along and soon he was coming up and able to see the figure ahead of him in the path.

He could smell a funny scent coming from the figure he was following, one that was vaguely familiar to him, which sent a bristling in his hackles. He stayed low, sure that wherever he was being led, it was to something sinister.

The figure led him on for some way and Sirius was very glad that he wasn’t in his human form - he never would’ve been able to find his way back to Hogwarts from here, they’d taken so many turns through the trees by now and the trees were only getting thicker. He was fairly certain they were close to where the boundaries of Hogwarts lay, where they’d met with Voldemort in their very first year.

They came to a stop and Sirius lowered himself so that his belly touched the forest floor and his ears were flat to his head, breathing as lightly as he could, inching until he could see through the leaves to the moon-filled circle of light before him. He stayed so still in the shadows that he was certain that no eyes could see him. He was as good as invisible.

The figure he’d been following wore a long cloak and kept his back to Sirius as he looked up into the sky overhead, and in the little patch that was visible, several of the orionids streaked past. He waited. And so did Sirius. And then there was a thundering sound, hooves among the trees, running swiftly through. A rush of air rustled the branches of the bush where Sirius crouched as several huge centaurs leaped over him and into the clearing, surrounding the figure Sirius had followed from the castle.

“Your kind are not welcome in this forest,” said a stern voice that Sirius recognized at once as the elder of the two centaurs they’d heard on their last visit to this place. Nerimai, the leader of the centaurs. Sirius felt a chill go through him.

“My kind are not welcome anywhere.”

It was Professor Veigler. Sirius’s heart was in his throat. Their incredible, wonderful Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? What was he doing here in the forest at this place at this time? And what did Nerimai mean by your kind? Was he prejudiced against wizards so much that he didn’t want them in the forest?

Nerimai replied, “I think you know why they are not.”

“I understand, of course, but -- sir, you understand, I am not the one that has brought them here.”

“Your existence at this school has brought them here!” Nerimai snarled. “Yours and the boy’s.”

There was a long silence. “The boy has nothing to do with it. The boy was here long before I was, and long before Greyback.”

Greyback, Sirius realized what the smell was that was burning his nose and raising his hackles. He’d breathed it in over the summer during that terrible fight in the woods behind James’s house, and now it was here, in the trees, all around him, permeating strongly from Veigler. It was the smell of Fenrir Greyback - a distinct, coppery scent that was something like blood and musk. He stared at the back of the teacher, who stood so tall. Veigler was certainly not Fenrir Greyback - so why did he smell so strongly of the werewolf?

Nerimai’s voice was low. “Dangers are on the horizon. The signs light up the sky. The Hunter makes his moves, and if the stars are right - and they’re rarely wrong - then the Hunter’s will come with his dog. And it will be your blood Veigler - your blood that will run.”

“Then so be it,” Professor Veigler said, “I have a job here to do and your pony stories don’t frighten me, Nerimai.”

There was an uneasy shuffling, hooves scraped the dirt in anger. The centaurs certainly did not like the term pony stories. Sirius slouched back slightly, afraid that their stamping might lead to an all out battle and he would need to rush to get away before he was caught up under hoof. But Nerimai’s voice - sharp and low - said, “No. Calm yourselves.” There was an eerie silence as the hooves instantly stopped. Somewhere far off in the distance crickets sang.

“You may not be afraid of my pony stories now,” Nerimai said, “But the Hunter is coming. And then you shall know fear.”

With that, the centaurs turned and bound away through the trees, cracking branches and smashing brush. Sirius had to duck and twist himself close to a tree to avoid being smushed underfoot by several of the largest centaurs as they ran, following after Nerimai in the dark. He stood, quaking at the echoing sound of their hooves as they trampled on, until they were mere whispers in the night.

He turned and looked back to the clearing. Professor Veigler had dropped to his knees in the clearing and tilted his head back to stare up into the night sky, his hands splayed out before him as though he were imploring the stars what to do.

Sirius was torn between desire to confront Veigler and wanting to run away before he was caught. He hesitated, and then decided to go. He left Veigler there below the moon and the streaks of the orionids, moving back through the trees to where he’d left James. His mind raced the entire way, pondering over the things he’d heard.

What did it all mean?

He could’ve smelled James a mile away. Human was very strong in the forest, such a foreign scent that just didn’t belong there among the trees. He found him standing, looking about, holding a rock and staring off into the trees. When Sirius stepped out of the shadows, James whirled toward him, rock raised, until Sirius transformed back into himself. James let out a low sigh of relief, “Bloody hell! What took you so long?” he demanded, wide eyed.

Sirius looked at the rock, “What were you going to do, stone anything that came by?”

“I needed to defend myself!” James replied sheepishly, dropping the rock to the ground.

Sirius guffawed, “Are you a muggle? Draw your wand to protect yourself, you prat!”

James smacked his forehead. “I’m an idiot.”

“I’m not denying it,” chuckled Sirius, “I hope you don’t expect me to.”

“So what happened?” James demanded, ignoring Sirius’s remarks, “Did you see Veigler?”

“You saw Veigler?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah, he passed by me - he didn’t see me, though.”

Sirius glanced back over his shoulder, “Good. I’ve got to talk to you and the boys. In the dormitory. Or maybe even the Secret Room. Some place we won’t be heard. Come on.”