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To the Death


“Kill him.”

The words echoed in Sirius’s mind. He had no energy, nothing left within himself to fight. Every ounce of him had been spent - between running, searching for James and Peter all day and struggling through the storm back to the Shack for Remus all evening and then the struggle to keep from losing his mind as his father administered the cruciatus curse on him - there was nothing left.

What little spark may have remained was shattered with the sound of his own Father ordering a werewolf to kill his son.

Sirius didn’t move as the grey-brown form of the werewolf came lunging at him. He just lay there, shivering in the cold, exposed, and utterly defeated.

Just before the werewolf would have grabbed hold on him, though, there came a dangerous roar and there was a second wolf - the grey wolf Sirius knew so well. Remus. Remus stood over Sirius, his body covering Sirius’s, and his fangs bared, legs vibrating in preparation to lunge if he needed to, growling fiercely at the grey-brown wolf opposite him.

Sirius was reminded of a dream he’d had… way back in first year… a dream he was laying on the floor of Walburga’s library, in exactly the state he laid in now, having just undergone the cruciatus curse… There’d been a wolf then, too, emerging from the dark… At the time, when he’d had the dream, he’d thought the wolf was attacking him. But now, as he laid beneath Remus, staring up at the fangs from below, at the vibration of his throat as the low growls escaped him, he realized the wolf in his dream had never been attacking him, he’d been protecting him. Just as Remus was doing now.

“KILL THEM BOTH!” Orion shouted.

And Veigler’s muscles tensed.

Both wolves leaped at one another at exactly the same time, their eyes wild, jaws snapping.

Sirius scrambled out of the way, eyes wide with horror. “No,” he whispered, “No. Remus, no!”

The wolves were not about to stop. They tumbled and fell over one another, their bodies fluid and curving, tangling up so that their limbs flew about, nearly indistinguishable which was which. Fur flew as they tore at each other’s flesh, and splatters of blood shot across the dusty floor, spraying both Sirius and Orion, who stood back on either side of the fight, neither having expected what was happening, both staring on with wide eyes, stunned. The sound of the wolves snarling filled the house, the fiercest, most terrifying sound that Sirius had ever heard. As scary as he’d seen Remus’s wolf form be in the past - all that seemed tame compared to how he was right now.

Veigler grabbed onto Remus’s shoulder, throwing him down, shaking his head violently so that the grey wolf slammed the floor several times in a row, ripping a bit of fur from his shoulder.

Remus gave out a yelp and swept his paws, claws fully extended, catching Veigler’s mouth, stretching back his jaw until he was forced to release Remus’s shoulder and Remus leaped up, coming back at Veigler again without pause, clamping his jaw over Veigler’s snout, biting down until the blood ran over Veigler’s nose and face.

Veigler threw Remus to the floor, standing so his paws were on his chest and he leaned down into Remus’s face and let out a growling bark - like a warning - that was so strong the floorboards shook.

Remus drew his legs in, close to his chest and his belly and kicked up, hard, sending Veigler flipping onto his back. But Veigler rolled and used his own legs to spring himself off the wall as he struck it and lunged back for Remus, forcing him into the hall. They snapped and growled at one another in the narrow space, Remus backing up, trying to get some form of higher ground, but Veigler came at him, a bigger wolf than Remus was, and snapped at his left ear, drawing blood, then his right cheek. He snapped at Remus’s feet, making Remus dance backwards until he’d reached the stairs. Knowing the angle was no good, Remus bolted down the steps, drawing the other wolf down.

Veigler took a flying leap from the top of the stairs, intending to land on Remus, but missing, rolling and hitting the broken table at the far side of the room. Remus used it as an opportunity and ran for him, teeth bared.

Veigler was hurt, though. One of his legs had snapped on the impact to the floor and he knew the fight was falling from his favor - and fast. If he was going to survive the fight, he needed to escape. He looked around.

Orion and Sirius had run after the wolves, each invested in the interest of his defender, and they took the stairs together, coming to a halt at the bottom, staring in horror at the scene. Blood was smeared all over the floor and still the wolves were fighting, even as big gashes in their fur bled like mad. Sirius could scarcely breathe.

Remus came down on the brown-grey wolf hard, grabbing hold of his neck and pressing him to the ground. The brown wolf struggled against the grip, but it was too tight. Remus shook, the wolf in him taking over, tasting the blood, wanting to devour the other wolf, wanting to kill him.

No, he told himself. Stop. Don’t kill him, you’ll never forgive yourself. This is Professor Veigler. He’s your brother. Don’t kill him… don’t kill him… He fought with himself, even as his jaw continued to clamp down on Veigler, even as he was shaking the very life out of him. Remus fought to control himself.

“REMUS!” Sirius screamed, seeing that the grey wolf was going too far, that the brown one’s strength was gone. “REMUS! COME BACK! COME BACK TO ME!”

Remus released Veigler, turning to look at Sirius… his alpha.

Suddenly, the door opened and there was Dumbledore.

Veigler took the opportunity. He rolled away from Remus’s grasp, struggled to his feet, his paws slipping in the blood that covered the floor, draining from the wound in his neck, and he ran for it, his tail between his legs, past Dumbledore, and out the door into the snow.

Orion saw his wolf run, saw Dumbledore had come, and without a moment’s pause, he disapparated.

Dumbledore looked shocked the grey wolf ran past him, chasing after the brown-grey wolf as it streaked across the field, his pace slower than it should’ve been, his gait broken by the snapped bone in his rear leg. He tripped once in the snow, blood trailing behind him, bright red against the white. He got up and ran more - the other two catching up - and got a bit further, closer to the woods, and he tripped again.

All he wanted was the cover of the trees.

Remus ran after him, but not to kill, to help, afraid that he’d gone too far.

Veigler reached the line of trees and he ducked into them, through the brush, the blood staining leaves and twigs and bracken alike as he struggled to get away, wanting to die in peace, wanting to be alone when the suffering ended. He tripped over exposed root, dragging his limp leg, and fell over the edge of a short ravine, tumbling side over side until he landed in a very shallow stream of water. The water ran red as it passed him, carrying away blood that poured from within him.

Remus ran past the ravine, not knowing Veigler had tripped down it, rushing, thinking he was still following after him into the woods.

Remus’s paws ached, he was frantic. He’d gone too far. Somewhere, he’d missed him… he turned, panicking, trying desperately to figure out where Veigler had gone. He had to be here somewhere. He couldn’t just go into the woods, he couldn’t die, he couldn’t be alone if he did have to die. Remus had to find him. He had to know that he hadn’t killed his friend. He turned in circles, breathing deep, trying to find the scent of Professor Veigler somewhere but the rain that fell dampened all the scenes, smoothed the snow so there were no footprints, made tracking hard. And Remus wasn’t that great at tracking, not like Sirius had been all day. He ran back toward the Shack, howling, crying out the only way he could, hoping and wishing that he’d hear something back… but nothing came.




“REY!!!!” Sirius had gone to run after the grey-wolf, but Dumbledore had caught him by the back of the robes only just in time, stopping him at the stoop. “Let me go! LET ME GO!” Sirius shouted, “REMUS NEEDS ME!”

“You are not chasing after a werewolf on the full moon in the middle of the Forbidden Forest,” Dumbledore replied, pulling Sirius back, “No.”

“But sir - Remus!”

“NO.” Dumbledore’s voice roared and he looked more frightening and commanding than Sirius had ever seen him before, he stared into Sirius’s eyes. “You are in no shape to be trying to fend off a werewolf. No. Remus will fend for himself and he’ll come back when he’s able.” Dumbledore stared out across the wide field before the Shrieking Shack.

“But - but Professor Veigler --” Sirius stammered, “He needs us, too, Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore shook his head, “There is nothing that you and I will be able to do for Professor Veigler now. It’s out of our hands.” He bent down to look into Sirius’s eyes. “You’ll need to trust me, Sirius. Do you trust me?”

Sirius’s throat burned, he looked over his shoulder at the line of trees through which Remus had disappeared. He’d already lost James and Peter, he was sure of it… now Rey, too? He couldn’t bare it. He looked back at Dumbledore as the first tears slid from his eyes. “Dumbledore…” he pleaded.

“Sirius. Do you trust me?” the headmaster repeated.

He nodded, giving in.

Dumbledore stood up, patting his hand on Sirius’s shoulder. He looked around the room, “Accio Wand,” he called and there was a pause - then Sirius’s wand came floating down the stairs from the bedroom, where Orion had dropped it, and it flew into into Dumbledore’s fist. “You must take the tunnel. Go back to Hogwarts, go to my office and wait there. You remember the password?”

“Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum,” whispered Sirius, taking his wand as Dumbledore offered it up.

Dumbledore nodded. “Now go.”

Sirius turned to go… paused for a moment at the door, looking off at the trees. “He’ll be alright? Remus, I mean?” he asked Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded. “Yes..”

Sirius turned and walked to the trap door in the floor and pulled it open, the fatigue of the fight sinking in, weighing down his muscles. He paused and looked back at the headmaster. “And James? And Peter?”

Dumbledore said, “That’s where I’m going.”

Sirius nodded. He sat, putting his feet down into the hole below the floor. “Sir.”

Dumbledore, who had turned to pull the door of the Shack closed behind him, paused and looked back. “Yes, Mr. Black?” he asked.

Sirius looked at him, “My father… ordered him to kill me. Remus saved me.”

Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Proof once more that love is thicker than blood.”

Sirius nodded, and he dropped into the tunnel, tugging the door shut behind him. It didn’t occur to him until he was more than halfway back to the castle that Dumbledore had known that Sirius already knew about the tunnel.




There was a slight ringing in Ned Veigler’s ears as he lay there on the edge of the little stream, panting shallowly, the moonlight on his fur, reflecting in the blood that ran so fast and hard that it was the deepest shade of red, nearly still blue from running in his veins.

This is what it’s like to die, he told himself. Years of willing for it and it’s finally come.

He closed his eyes, feeling the cool water wash away his blood, slowly slipping away…

There was a sound… a snuffling sort of sound… coming closer… coming right to his snout... and, weak, nearly gone, Ned Veigler slowly opened his eyes. Before him was the strangest creature he’d ever seen.

It was dark grey, nearly black, with a long fleshy snout that wiggled and snuffled and twisted as it pressed the end of the snout against Ned’s nose. The creature huffed and puffed and squealed, sitting back on his bottom like a funny bear, his clawed feet scratching his belly oddly. Ned blinked weakly at the creature as it continued on squealing into the night.

He closed his eyes.

“Very good, very good niffler, you found him, you’re very good at finding things… Yes, I know what’s what niffler’s do but usually they’re shiny things they’re quite good at finding and you are an exception to the rule, my furry friend.” The voice was accompanied by crunching footsteps, then splashes, and the sound of something heavy thumping against the stone above Ned’s head. Ned opened his eyes - just slits at this point. Everything was a blur.

“We’re - we’re, uh, just in time, it seems… yes… Let me just… you - go in there and get me a bottle of the Essence Sanguine, niffler. It’s the red one. Go. Hurry up… Hurry up, we haven’t got all day…” A hand touched Ned’s broken hind leg, “My, my. You, uh, you did get into it, didn’t you?” Then, “No, no that’s the wrong red one, you dolt. The Sanguine! The Sanguine!”

A hand lifted Ned’s head gently. “There it is, thank you, bloody nifflers… Grand at finding things, not grand at finding the right things, always… Here… Careful with your teeth now, mate… It’s going to taste terrible, I’m afraid, but it’s all going in so don’t be fighting me.” Ned felt a burning potion pouring down his throat. “Yes… yes that should do. At least enough to move you… I can do the rest inside… Locomotor Wolf.”

A bit of strength was filling Ned’s veins, as though new blood had been poured into him.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the honey-gold eyes of Newt Scamander, who smiled awkwardly, his overlarge front teeth pressed against his lower lip. “Don’t worry, mate,” he said quietly, “It’s over now.” And with a flick of Newt’s wand, the wolf lowered into the briefcase. The little grey-black niffler snuffled and snorted and dove in after the wolf. Newt looked about, then climbed into the briefcase himself, “Tina,” he called as he stepped inside, “We have a new patient!” And as he pulled the case closed behind him, he called, "This one's quite interesting as he's, uh, he's technically died just now and I've only barely managed to save him with the Sanguine! Wait 'til you see!"