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To the Bloody Woods


Sirius was curled up on his bed, in dog form, asleep beneath the duvet on his bed. He’d excused himself from the library nearly immediately after James had left before with Marlene and Emmaline. He’d put his palm on Remus’s shoulder when he’d tried to follow Sirius, saying, “I’ll be fine, I think I need to be alone right now, go on studying.” He’d regretted it the moment he got to the dorm and had a seat on the bed in the silence of the room. It felt oppressive, and in it he could hear the cries of the Death Eaters echoing in his head… their gasps like ghosts… So he’d changed. The memories were further away as a dog, the echoes less intense, and when he dreamed, his mind was taken over by doggy dreams - images of running through the woods and hunting rabbits and warm summer nights bathed in the light of the full moon…

The dormitory door slammed very hard shut and one of the chairs’ permanent sticking charms let go and it crashed to the floor.

Sirius rustled his way out from beneath the duvet, and it caught on one of his ears so that one stood to attention and the other was folded over as he turned to see James, angry tears streaming across his face, fists balled, pacing. Sirius barked once to announce himself.

James looked over, “I didn’t know you were in here. Sorry if I woke you.” He threw his wand and his glasses onto the nightstand among chocolate frog wrappers and firewhiskey bottle caps. Rubbing his eyes to clear the hot tears away, he muttered, “I would’ve been more quiet if I’d known. Sorry I’m just a bleeding idiot.” James rolled over so he was back-to the dog.

Sirius changed back so that he was sitting on the bed, a human once more. “What the bloody hell happened?”

James shook his head.

“Potter…. C’mon. Talk to me. What happened?”

“Lily hates me.”

“Of course she does, you’re Potter and she’s Evans, that’s what you lot do - hate each other.”

“No,” James choked, “No, Sirius, for real, why doesn’t she like me? Am I horrible?”

“Of course not!” Sirius said, “Blimey, you’re one of the best people I’ve ever known!” He got up and went over to James’s bed, sitting next to him and patting his shoulder.

“I love her.”

“I know.”

James closed his eyes. “It hurts she’d take a person like Snape over me. Time and again. I’ve tried so hard and nothing’s ever enough…”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry, Prongs.”

“Make it stop hurting, Sirius,” James muttered. “Please tell me how to make it stop hurting.”

Sirius at his mate a moment, then glanced at his bed, where the duvet was still messed up, covered with a good amount of black fur. He looked back at James. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up. We’re going.”

“Going where?”

“To the bloody woods, where else?”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see. Just get up!” Sirius cried and he went over to his trunk and withdrew a bit of parchment, scrawling out the world’s messiest, fastest note, and laid it on Remus’s pillow. James was sitting up, his eyes rimmed in red, and watching Sirius in confusion. “C’mon,” Sirius said, jamming his feet into his shoes. “Move. Let’s go.”

James got up, loosening his tie from ‘round his neck and draped it over the end of his bed, “Alright…”

“And bring the cloak. We’ll need it to get into the Shack.”

“Get into the Shack? We’re going to the Shrieking Shack?” James asked, grabbing the invisibility cloak from the trunk at the foot of his bed.

“Only for the purpose of getting off the grounds. C’mon.”

James didn’t know what Sirius’s plan was, didn’t really care. Being active would keep him from thinking too much on Lily and Snape and all the horrible things he could be planning to force her into his life… He followed after Sirius through the common room and down the stairs. They threw the cloak on outside, ducking down in some brush beside the castle in the mid-afternoon sunlight. They ran together to the Whomping Willow, and Sirius tossed the rock to freeze the tree’s blows, and into the tunnel they went. Sirius led the way through the tunnel’s darkness.

They reached the Shack as the sun was beginning to drop below the horizon, the air turning purple in twilight. Sirius flung the invisibility cloak over the bannister and he looked at James, “It’s cold out there so you’ll want to transform before we go.”

“Transform?”

“To a stag.”

James laughed, “Sirius, I haven’t managed it yet other than the one time --”

“You can do it.”

“And what good would it do me if I did? It’s not going to change anything.”

“Change it? No. But you need a break from the pain and I’m giving it to you. James, you’ll see, the worries… they go away. It’s as though animals are carefree or like they know the secret to peace somehow. It quells that hurt you feel.”

James hesitated.

“We’ll go explore the woods. I’ll show you the grounds. We’ll forget all our problems. It’ll do us both some good.”

James closed his eyes. Mutare magus animus, he thought… but he didn’t feel anything. He took a deep breath…

A stag animagus signifies a strong personality - indicating speed and pride, a strong will, and strong empathy… he thought, reciting the words he’d since memorized from Releasing the Animagus Within. The stag is a natural leader, looked up to by his peers, with a courage uniquely his own… The stag is pure-hearted; quick-witted, quick to anger, and quick to protect… A natural care-taker, passionate in love, and unrelenting in defending the ones they consider family, the stag mates for life… James exhaled slowly. A wizard with a stag animagus is courageous, loving, and loyal….

”You think that’s me, Professor?” the question echoed in his mind.

”Mr. Potter, I think that it fits you rather perfectly.”

“Mature magus animus,” James’s voice said the words aloud, even though it was supposed to be a silent spell.

There was fire in his veins. Pure fire… and he fell to his knees, his legs cracking… bending of their own accord, his knees reversing themselves, legs becoming skinnier, his head weighed down by the full set of impressive antlers, his chest puffing out… He was bellowing, his voice shaking as he changed and soon the sound of a boy’s cries turned to the bleating of a deer, of a stag, and there, in the center of the Shrieking Shack, lay a very large, very impressive buck.

Sirius’s grin was quite wide. “Well bloody hell, aren’t you impressive, Prongs!” he said.

The stag looked up at him shakily.

Sirius went over as James struggled uneasily to his stag legs, which shook uncertainly beneath him, as awkward as a newborn fawn. Sirius whistled lowly, in awe, and ran his palm over the back of the stag. “Positively brilliant, Potter.”

The stag made a throaty honking sort of sound, tossing his head and Sirius laughed. “I dunno what you’re trying to say, but you’re bloody magnificent.” Sirius turned and beckoned to the stag, “C’mon. Let’s go stretch your legs.”

The stag took a trembling step forward, seeming to be trying to balance on his hooves all wobbly and such. He inched along toward the door, following Sirius, each step getting better, more solid, more confident, until he reached the front door, and Sirius opened it wide and the stag hurried forward, eager now as he went… running for the door… and his rack caught in the frame of the door, too wide to pass through, and the force of it knocked him roughly down so that his long legs sprawled either side of him awkwardly.

Sirius laughed loudly as James shook his great stag head. “Sorry, mate, but that was funny as anything I’ve ever seen! You just…” he mimed running and clapped his hands together for the impact and flopped his hand to one side to indicate falling down. “Positively hilarious.”

The stag made the throaty honking sound again.

Sirius smirked, “I’ve a feeling that one meant ‘fuck you’, yeah?”

James honked agreement.