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What’s a Moony Without a Padfoot?


Sirius ran to catch Mr. Patra, but he’d already got in the glass elevator cart and zipped away before he could get there to stop him. He turned and looked at Remus, perfectly frozen as he sat on the rock, only his eyes able to move. Sirius was reminded of the kitchen at Number 12, Grimmauld Place and the way that Voldemort had slithered about between him and his father, torturing them, and, finally, killing Orion.

He hurried over and tapped Remus on his head with it gently, “Finite incantantum,” he announced and Remus’s muscles loosened up, and his shoulders sank forward as the spell ended. Sirius knelt before Remus, staring up into his eyes. “Turns out that guy’s a real nutter, huh? Talking like that about you and Veigler! Doesn’t even know you, does he?” Sirius put his hands on Remus’s knees. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Remus answered, though he was shaky.

Sirius spun the ring on his finger as he thought, pacing. “How could that bloody git even think about hurting Veigler -- or, worse, you?” Sirius demanded, scowling, “The great wanker… talking about you like you aren’t even people...”

Remus looked at Sirius with a sad sort of pity. “You don’t get it, do you?” he asked.

“Get what?” Sirius paused his pacing to look at Remus.

“That’s how most people think of werewolves, Padfoot… You’re very much in the minority. You and James and Peter and Newt and Dumbledore and Tina… You are the ones thinking differently about me and Professor Veigler.”

Sirius stared at Remus, “Come on now, that’s just crazy - who would ever think bad of a person just because they’ve got a furry little problem?”

“Everyone but you lot,” Remus answered. “And even Peter took a minute to come around… Remember my dad? How angry he was? People are prejudiced against werewolves, they don’t like us, they want us all to be killed, think we’re all like Greyback, just out to tear people apart for the fun of it.”

“But that’s a lie!” Sirius said, “You aren’t! You don’t! You’re nothing like Greyback at all!” He looked absolutely livid. He shook his head violently, “Remus, you’re the gentlest person I’ve known in all my entire life - you’re better than most of the supposed regular people that I know. Being a werewolf only affects you for a few hours each month. How could anybody want to kill you over that?”

Remus stared at Sirius for a long moment. “They just do.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

“Well fuck them! Fuck all of them! Fuck everyone who thinks you don’t deserve to live just because you’re a bloody werewolf. I’ll tear them all apart myself!!” Sirius was quite passionate about this. He waved his arms about, pacing again, but with gusto and anger in his stamping footsteps.

Remus smiled sadly, “You tearing them apart might send the wrong message about werewolves, mate.”

Sirius stopped and stared at him. Then, “Now what? What do we do? We gotta get you out of here.” He looked about for the exit door, but he couldn’t see it. He knew they’d come in from somewhere, but it blended in so well it was hard to see where...

“We gotta go save Professor Veigler,” Remus said, reminding him. “Before they catch him up there.”

“You need to sit and relax,” Sirius argued. “I will go and save Veigler. You’re not going to be any help up there in that moonstone room, you’ll just turn again… and Merlin forbid if they ever caught you instead of Veigler…” Sirius shuddered.

“I don’t want you going off alone to do it,” Remus said.

“Well I’m very sorry but it appears that’s what’s going to have to be done,” Sirius said, and his attitude suddenly switched from his panicking, pacing one to one of determination, “That’s what I do, after all - save werewolves. Though I don’t much like the thought of you being alone down here, either, incase something happens and they come back here looking for you before I get back.” He looked around and his eyes landed on Newt Scamander’s briefcase. Sirius pointed, “There. In there. You’ll go in there and I’ll carry the case with me to keep you lot safe!”

Remus looked at the case, “Sirius, you can’t do this by yourself.”

“I can… I will.” Sirius stared at Remus with very solemn eyes, “And you cannot stop me.”

Remus sighed, “Sirius --”

“You literally have no argument to make! And every second that ticks away is another second that they’ve spent hunting Veigler without opposition!” Sirius said and he flipped the briefcase onto it’s side, undid the latches and opened it to reveal the ladder down into the laboratory. He stared at Remus meaningfully, pointing into the lab. “Go on then.”

Remus’s voice shook, “You’ll be alright?”

“Yes.”

“You swear?”

Sirius motioned crossing his heart with one finger.

Remus knew of course that no such promise could affect whether Sirius was hurt or not. That was up to whatever gods may be looking over them at that time. Remus drew a deep breath and stood up and he clutched Sirius close to himself. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Getting you into this,” Remus replied, “Being a werewolf so that I can’t help you up there in the moonstone room… being… being subpar so that you’re stuck having to defend me against gits like this. You know Mr. Patra won’t be the last one to look at me with prejudice, Sirius. He isn’t the first, and he won’t be the last.”

“I don’t care what you are,” Sirius said, “I’ve told you a hundred times. I don’t care. The only thing you are, Moony, that I care about is mine.” He put a hand on Remus’s shoulder, “And they’re the ones that should be sorry. Not you. Don’t apologize for being you.”

“But all the risks you take for me…” Remus murmured.

Sirius’s eyes sparkled, “Remus. What’s life without a little risk?”

“Safe,” Remus replied dryly.

“Shhh,” Sirius covered Remus’s lips with his hand, “Shh. Don’t. You’ll ruin the moment. Let me deliver that epic line again, and this time don’t you go messing it up. Ready?”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“What’s life without a little risk?” Remus said nothing this time and Sirius grinned, pleased. “Now. You stay in there, mate, and I’ll go and save the werewolf upstairs.”

Remus went into the case, pausing on the ladder to look up at Sirius. “Padfoot,” he said sternly… and Sirius looked down at him, one eyebrow raised, kneeling to close the case behind him. “Do be careful…After all… What’s a Moony without a Padfoot?”

Sirius grinned, “Probably a good deal less annoyed.”

“Shh,” Remus said, mimicking Sirius’s previous tone. “Don’t… You’ll ruin the moment.” And then he climbed down into the briefcase, leaving Sirius kneeling before it, grinning at his cheekiness.

Neither of them noticed the Niffler had snuck out the corner, carrying a gold medallion on a long chain in his little paws.

Sirius shut up the briefcase once Remus was safely inside, flicking the locks. He stood up slowly, with purpose in his muscle and he lifted the case up, clutching the handle. It was amazingly light, considering what all was inside it. Most precious cargo, Sirius thought. Slowly, he walked forward to the glass elevator shaft (the Niffler swinging by the end of his medallion chain, which had caught in the briefcase hinge when Sirius closed it) and pressed the button to summon the cart. He drew a deep breath and waited, staring up the shaft, his heart thudding quite heavily behind his ribs.

“You can do this Sirius. You can. You’ve got this. You’ve got this. It’s just saving the day - that’s all. You’ve done this loads of times. Against Voldemort, even. It’s gonna be alright. You got this.” And there came the cart and he stepped aboard, pressed the button to go up, and off he went (with the Niffler, whose eyes went quite wide upon seeing all of the golden control buttons and shiny lever of the elevator cart and released his grip on the medallion to inspect them).




Ned Veigler was struggling. The moonstone ceiling was just enough to turn him wolf, just enough to make him lose his mind… for a time. But, like a boggart, the effects were not as strong as the real full moon. So, after the sharp ringing of that wolf whistle had rattled his brains up a bit, his mind had started to come back to him. He could clearly recall Newt Scamander’s frightened expression, could smell the scent of blood on his own fur and see it on his claws…

He could not run far or fast enough to get away from himself.

The demons pecked at his brain.

Please. Please don’t let Newt Scamander die, he begged Anyone who may be listening. Not Newt. Not because of me.

What have I done?

He ran and ran, the trees of the moonstone observatory seeming to be unending, like a true forest. There had to be a way out, a way to hide from the eternal moon, to turn back, to gather himself together and --

Suddenly, an arrow shot past him, so close that it brushed his fur. The arrow struck a tree and stuck fast. The wolf turned, looking over his shoulder. Three very large, black haired centaurs with deeply tanned bodies stood on the crest of a hill directly behind him, their bows level, drawing arrows from their holsters… He turned and he bolted through the trees, pressing himself as low to the ground as he could. The centaurs followed after, yelling to one another in Arabic, shouting directions, making plans to capture him that Ned Veigler couldn’t understand… Luckily, a wolf is much smaller than a centaur and it was easier for him to move through thick underbrush, and they were slowed as he ducked and twisted his way through, running pellmell away…

And then there was wall and he banged into it because the wall was painted to match the trees and it was deceptively well done. He shook it off and ran, keeping his shoulder to the wall, which curved about - the room was round. He could hear the centaurs falling farther and farther behind and soon he couldn’t hear anything at all, even with his keen wolf’s hearing and he slowed and caught his breath, panting and loping along.

“Petrificus totalus!”

Mr. Patra had snuck up so impossibly silently that Ned hadn’t heard him at all until he was upon him. His muscles stiffened and he toppled over onto his side, the fur on his neck standing up in reaction to the sudden danger. He lay there, helpless… Mr. Patra walked up and stood over him, followed by the crashing of brush and trees as the centaurs came up behind him, flanking him. The three spoke in Arabic for a moment and then the centaurs dashed off toward the glass elevators.

Mr. Patra leaned down. “I’m so sorry Ned, that this has happened to you, that you were changed to a werewolf. I am sure this was not your choice. But being what you are -- you understand. It’s dangerous… for everyone. I wish there was a better way… I wish there was a remedy, but until they discover a cure… the only way to stop a werewolf…” and he pulled out a silver dagger from his pocket.

Ned Veigler couldn’t even close his eyes.

Suddenly, Mr. Patra was knocked off his course - sending the dagger harshly into the grass six inches to the left of his target - as Newt Scamander’s briefcase slammed into the side of his head, blindsiding him. “Finite incantantum!” Sirius shouted and he hurriedly ran away, hoping the werewolf would follow after him, hoping he would smell like a tastier snack than Mr. Patra did, not knowing that Veigler had control of himself. He waved his turban, which he’d pulled off, at Veigler, who’d jumped up, and ran for the elevator. The only hope he had was to get Veigler onto the cart and down, away from the moonstone the way he’d done Remus…

Veigler ran after Sirius, leaping and bounding, following the crashing his rescuer was making through the forest trees, hoping he knew the way he was going… and sure enough, he did, for they broke through the trees to the elevator shaft. Waiting there, though, were the two centaurs, looking quite angry, like guards over the glass cart… raising their bows, loaded with arrows tipped in shiny silver…

And suddenly there was the Niffler, hanging off one of the bows, trying to grab at the shiny silver with his claws and the centaur whose weapon was compromised looked quite stunned and he tried to shake the Niffler off as Veigler and Sirius approached and the second centaur turned to help him and the Niffler swung about on the end of the bow…

Sirius plowed forward. “Stupefy!” he shouted, aiming the spell at the second centaur, who instantly tipped backward and he looked to the other, still trying to shake off the Niffler, and he aimed his wand, caught the Niffler up and cried out, “Stupefy!” at that centaur as well. He dove into the glass cart, followed closely by Ned Veigler’s wolf, and the Niffler clung onto Sirius, covering her little eyes with her claws. Sirius yanked the lever down and the doors closed behind him as the centaurs were waking up, but too late to stop the cart for it was going down -- and Sirius turned to aim his wand at the wolf… but Ned Veigler was already changing back (thank Merlin) and Sirius lowered the wand.

“Welcome back, mate,” he panted when Veigler the man lay before him on the elevator cart floor. “Good to see you.” He threw Newt’s briefcase to the floor and flipped it open. “In you go. And take this with you.” He shoved the Niffler into Veigler’s arms. “Hurry.”

Veigler looked at him, “What about you?”

“Someone’s gotta carry the briefcase mate.”

“Yes, but --”

“Go on, I’ll be fine. Go.” Sirius pointed.

Ned Veigler hesitated only a moment more before clutching onto the Niffler tight and hurrying down the ladder into the briefcase, which snapped shut behind him.