H'lo again! I still haven't read the order of the phoenix or the book that comes after it, so you're all going to have to deal with my shitty free-writing. It doesn't have a plot or anything else that makes up a story, it just…is. Merlin, I need to plan a trip to the library!

Disclaimer: If I owned HP, don't you think this whole thing would at least have a plot?

Chapter Four: Healing

Amazingly, there are some rare potions that require werewolf's blood as an ingredient. They never said it had to be pure, so thrown up half-beast blood appears to be just as good. The man Sirius sold it to said that the last person he'd had bleed a wolf diluted the precious blood too much. One would guess it was with his own. He'd hexed the shady merchant and gotten on with his life. Just the way it had been said made him think of a hunter sticking Remus in the throat with an enchanted knife holding a tub under the flow while cackling insanely. Yeah. He had enough problems as is without something like that haunting him the rest of his life. Other than that, the blood gave him enough gold to buy a small house or two. Sirius wasn't exactly happy with this, since there was a black market for the stuff and that usually meant tons of people willing to die just to get it. He might have to mention this to Dumbledore when he got back…

And so it was that he made his way back to the med wing of the infirmary with heavy pockets and a vicious mood. Whoever thought being rich again would feel so dirty? Sighing heavily, he jingled the coins absently and wondered abruptly what would happen if anyone found out. Not about the blood, but Moony. What if someone knew the secret of the willow and somehow managed to open it one full moon? There was no guarantee that whoever figured it out would live long enough to reveal it, what with Sirius only being a one man support team for a werewolf that didn't know he was there last time. Shuddering, he could only imagine how strict the law on half-beasts was right now because of their alliance to Voldemort. It was like a stereotype since not every half-beast or creepy-crawly was evil. Merlin, when Lily found out about Remus' 'furry little problem', she'd said it was impossible to tell unless you saw the scars.

The scars…

Speaking of which, there were going to be some new ones when his friend finally healed. It had only been a couple of days and already Madam Pomfrey was sure there would be no lasting damage to the torn tendons and muscles. They were cursed bites so the wounds would never fade, just slowly close up with the itching of a hundred Snufflybugs. Merlin, it was going to be a loooooong healing process. At least he had the chance to heal. Opening the door to the private bedroom Madam Pomfrey kept especially for Remus, Sirius dumped the gold on the medi-witch's desk and decided to forget about it entirely. He was usually pretty good at forgetting things. Especially if those things involved work or school. Remus was good at remembering things, not him and especially not…James.

The taste of iron in his mouth told Sirius he'd just bitten through his lip. The pain centered him in the present, which was to look straight into Madam Pomfrey's eyes and tell her just how he'd come across friend. At a full moon, no less. Barely holding back a snort, he deadpanned, This is going to go smashingly. 'Yes, Madam. You see, my friends and I are, or were, illegal animagi who sat with Remus every full moon and played ding-dong ditch in Hogsmeade after midnight. But don't worry, Moony hasn't even come close to dismembering us. Well, there was that one time in the spring. And a few times in the winter…Oh yes, that would go over just as well as the time he lost a bet and had to run starkers through the common room. His eye twitched in the memory of professor McGonagall's face that day.

The only reason the medi-witch hadn't asked this by now was because of Remus and Harry. The werewolf had faked several ailments that she attended to immediately while mini-Prongs and his friends hung around asking questions about the seventies. Honestly, just ask a picture hanging up in the hall! They'd be more than happy to tell the tale of the Marauders. It had apparently been a mentally scarring period of time for many of them, especially his dear old great granddad. Although how he ever became a headmaster was much beyond Sirius, since he was quite fond of the drink and two of the three Unforgivable curses. Maybe that was the reason his grammie was only partially in her right mind.

A right bastard if there ever was one.

Pomfrey was still ranting. These thoughts were going absolutely nowhere fast and he was starting to get bored. Remus, now awake and partially aware, caught the look on Sirius' face and widened his eyes in horror. After looking around wildly for something that might possibly avert the coming disaster, he transfigured the water glass he was holding into a rubber ball and chucked it across the room. Sirius, still glassy eyed, automatically started chasing after the ball with a gleeful squeal that sounded like it should have come from a three year old girl instead of a full grown wizard. It was sad. Raising his eyebrows at the returning dog animagus, Remus caught the ball when it was tossed to him and explained to Harry, "Siri was getting bored. Bad things happen to people when he gets bored. Siri also has a penchant for chasing things. It comes in handy when teachers are ranting." Turning to Madam Pomfrey, he stammered, "N-not that you were on a tirade, Madam. Padfoot just has the attention span of a toddler." Hearing the unimpressed growl from his friend, he decided promptly to quit while he was ahead and sulk.

He could never win with these people.

Sirius and Remus started a game of catch while Madam Pomfrey just stood there and blinked in confusion. Did that boy just chase after a ball? Shaking her head and deciding she definitely didn't want to know, she left the room and silently vowed never to bring up the subject again. As long as they got out of her ward and didn't come back until next month, there was no reason to bring this problem to the attention on the new headmistress. Scratch that, no problem was great enough to bring to the attention of the new headmistress. The woman was a loon, for sure. The very idea of what she could do to these poor children was unthinkable! Shaking her head, Poppy Pomfrey resigned herself to the fact that nothing was going to change and even if it did, there was no guarantee it was going to be for the better. If whatever these boys where keeping secret from her could possibly keep them safe, it was up to them to look after each other. She knew they would. There was this feeling in the pit of her stomach that just cried out about something terrible coming their way. And Madam Poppy Pomfrey was hardly ever wrong.

The last two Marauders had given up on playing catch after Sirius 'accidentally' tossed the ball out the window onto the conveniently placed potions master after turning it into a water balloon filled with Merlin knew what. Figuring it was probably better off staying unknown from the all-too-familiar screams, Remus was finally able to leave the hospital wing after being assessed by one of the junior healers. Sirius was bouncing around anxiously and looking for all the world like a hungry puppy begging for food. Rolling his eyes at the look on his friends face, the werewolf stated, "Sirius. We aren't going to make a Professor believe he can dance ballet, no matter how much of a git he is. Everyone will know it's us and we need to come up with something grand as an opener. Any ideas?"

He quickly regretted ever bringing up the subject. Yes, Sirius was dead quiet as he put on his thinking face and walked down the hall, but what he was thinking about could range anywhere from pranks to pudding. When the sudden grin lit up Sirius' face, he hoped to god it was pudding. It wasn't. "What's say we pay a little visit to Minnie? You know she missed her favorite students! Please, Remmie? Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, ple-"

"Alright, Siri. We'll go visit Professor McGonagall. Just shut up and keep walking or we'll be late for lunch. Merlin's left nut! We are late for lunch!"

That got him moving. Shrieking in horror and earning many incredulous looks from the moderately sane people wandering the halls, Sirius raced off faster than any Seeker to get to his favorite meal. There was definitely going to be some mental scarring. Poor students. The way Sirius ate was less chewing and more inhaling anything he could get his grubby little mitts on. It had scarred him for life, so that kind of brings up a very important question.

Why am I still friends with him?

It was a question left unsolved by the masses of people who tried to figure out just how Remus fit in with the Marauders. They were rude, he was polite. They were obnoxious, while according to Lily he was 'shy' and 'sweeter than honey'. Not to mention that James walked in his sleep, Sirius spoke in his sleep and Peter…snored. Like a bloody fog horn. It was shocking he hadn't strangled them all in their sleep. I should have, Remus mused. Would've caused a lot less harm to everyone if I had. Especially Snape. And Lily. Point is, nobody knew that Remus was the mastermind and voice of reason for the Marauders. Whenever Sirius came up with a plan that sounded either illegal or could cause him to be sent to Azkaban for murder, he was the one to smack him on the back of the head and scold them. Remus was also the one finding the best spells to cast on poor unsuspecting Slytherins and first years. Yet the young werewolf wasn't just the brains of the Marauders. Oh, no.

He was the reason for its existence.

Words left unspoken should stay that way, though. As long as his secret was kept and professors thought of them only as misbehaved children instead of lawbreaking adults, there was no chance of discovery. Or Azkaban. Plus, Remus felt quite bad for the rest of his classmates whether they be alive or not for what he couldn't stop. Even if it was very amusing to see them dripping in some strange combination of Mayonnaise and Flubberworms. It was an unfortunate mishap that the person had been a DADA professor with a very short temper and a tendency to overreact. The point is, the Marauders were born beneath the full moon and, ironically enough, died under the full moon. It was all for him.

The memories were pleasant enough but they brought with them the unpleasant taste of grief. Swallowing the lump in his throat was hard enough without the added pressure keeping it there. Deciding to leave the past alone, Remus strode quickly into the great hall and avoided the flying food.

Sadly, it was all from Sirius.

Somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, Cavern

No one stirred as Greyback paced the rough floors of the cave. His pack just watched silently and apprehensively as the muttering became more and more frenzied, the steps angrier and more frantic. They were afraid, as all sensible beings should be, of the plans their alpha was making. It didn't truly matter, they reasoned, as long as they got fresh meat out of it. Living on leftover deer carcasses and carrion wasn't the best way to keep a steady constitution or a happy pack. Fenrir knew he was losing them almost as quickly as he could recruit them and it couldn't be helped. He couldn't be everywhere at once, so hunting and foraging was out since he didn't trust any one of them as far as he could throw a Norwegian Ridgeback.

What the pack needed was a second in command, a beta, of you will, to control either the hunting wolves or the pack at any given time. All of these worthless idiots were too young or too mad for the job, too gentle or too rough. Yet he knew that with the proper enticement the pup he had changed over two centuries ago would be the perfect fit. If not, the scent of fresh kill might make him give in just enough for the wolf to assert itself as dominant. Absently wishing for just the smallest bite of tender child flesh, Greyback made up his mind. The pup was his by right. He would simply take him.

After all, who would try to stop him?

So, my grandmother died last Monday. I might be posting more or less, not sure yet. Started writing this chapter like, a month ago and just came around to finishing it. No HP books have been read yet, so…yeah. That's it, really. Have a nice rest of March Break!