The Wolf and the Raven

Ch 44 - Of Soulmates and Animagi

Upon leaving the Headmaster's office, the five friends thought that perhaps they had gotten off easy. After all, they had expected at least a week of evening detentions to pay for the their crimes. But they soon realised that five months hard labour would have been preferable to the weight of the prophecy they now bore on their shoulders.

They walked around the school with uncharacteristic solemnity. Even Peeves, who they usually battled with relish, couldn't evoke a reaction. The only thing that interrupted their despair was the upcoming full moon, which fell the evening before the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw match.



A few days before the full moon, Branwen journeyed into the library searching for the books Remus had recommended for her Defence Against the Dark Arts essay.

A voice called out, "Potter!"

She glanced over her shoulder. Lily Evans was sitting at a corner table across from Severus Snape. She motioned Branwen over.

"Morning, Branwen. Is it okay if I called you Branwen?" Lily smiled and motioned to the seat beside her. Severus eyed them warily, but his face was soon obscured by curtains of greasy hair as he bent back over his parchment.

"Um, yeah, it's okay." Branwen sat down nervously. "Everything all right?"

Lily twirled her quill in her fingers. "Look, I know it was your brother that rescued me from those horrid Slytherin boys last weekend. I just want to know why he hasn't said anything. It's not like him to keep quiet about something like this."

Branwen pulled her shoulders back, straightening in her chair. "If there's one thing our parents taught us, it's that you should do the right thing because it's right, not because you're looking for a reward. James may be nothing more than a strutting peacock about stupid things like grades and appearances, but he's not going to hold this over you if that's what you're worried about."

Lily pursed her lips, but said nothing.

"Lily?" The girl looked up at the use of her first name. "James really fancies you. I mean, really, really fancies you."

Lily opened her mouth, but Branwen rushed on. "I mean it. I've never seen him look at anyone like he does with you. The only thing he talks about more than you is Quidditch. And – and he really is a nice guy."

Severus coughed loudly to cover a derisive laugh. Branwen met him with a nasty glare. "Look, I'm his sister, right?" She continued addressing Lily. "I've seen him every day of my life – almost fourteen years. He's clever and funny and probably handsome I guess, if you're into messy hair and dorky glasses and weird teeth...Anyway, don't you think you could give him a chance? Maybe go to Hogsmeade with him next time he asks?"

Severus made a choking sound.

Branwen narrowed her eyes. "You might want to get that cough checked out, Snivellus. I'd hate for you to end up in the hospital wing."

"Branwen, let it go," Lily grit her teeth.

When Branwen and Severus broke eye contact and settled back in their chairs, Lily sighed and set her quill down. "Look, Branwen, it's not just James that upsets me. It's this whole wizarding culture. Everyone settles down so early. In the Muggle world, we date off and on during secondary school, then we graduate, get a job, and finally meet someone we want to marry. Here, it seems like everyone knows exactly who they'll end up with even before they graduate."

Branwen frowned. She had never considered this an anomaly. Slowly, she said, "Well, the Muggle population is a lot bigger than ours. I mean, how many Muggles are in London alone? Probably thousands."

Lily giggled. "Try seven million."

Branwen's jaw dropped. "Woah. Well, there you go. Millions of people to choose from. Here in our world – your world – what you see is what you get. I suppose unless you marry someone much older or younger, or someone from a foreign school, you can almost guarantee meeting your soulmate while you're here at Hogwarts."

Lily leaned forward suddenly, her green eyes locked on Branwen's blue ones. "Branwen, do you really believe in soulmates?"

"I do," Severus spoke for the first time. The girls looked at him in surprise, but he chose not to elaborate, hiding once again behind his greasy locks.

Branwen watched him warily, but continued. "I suppose I do. Maybe not for everyone, but I've seen it. My parents are soulmates."

"Do you think you've met your soulmate?"

Branwen squirmed uncomfortably. "I – I don't know." It was her turn to ask the older girl a question. "How do you know if you've met him? How do you know he's the one?"

"I don't know really," Lily sighed. "I suppose....there will just be something in your heart. A gut feeling that – I don't know – calls out to that person. Like you've known them forever, even if you've only just met."

"And if you've known each other for a while?" Branwen asked.

"Then, maybe you grow to be soulmates. Or maybe you just wake up one day and look at them like you've never seen them before. They'll just glow from the inside. Everything about them will be beautiful. You'll realise that a day with them would be better than a lifetime without." Lily's eyes had taken on a far off, misty look.

"Had much experience with this, have you?" Branwen giggled.

Lily flushed a bright red to match her hair. "No. I've just read a lot about it."

A wicked smirk curled Branwen's lips. "Do you think you could grow to be James' soulmate? Maybe you'll wake up some day and see him glowing?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Has this whole conversation been leading up to that ridiculous question?"

"No!" Branwen said quickly. Before she could say anything else though, James' head poked around the corner of the shelf closest to them. "Hey Bran – oh, well hello Evans." He winked and shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes as he strolled toward them.

"Bye Branwen," Lily stood and gathered her parchments and books, depositing them in her bag. She shouldered the bag and turned to follow Severus out of the library, but paused, looking back over her shoulder. "And....thanks, Potter."

She was gone before he respond.

"What was that all about?" James stared at the doorway through which she had left.

"Forget it, James," Branwen laid a hand on her brother's arm. "Did you come looking for me?"

"Hm?" He glanced back at her. "Oh! Oh yeah. It's Remus. He's trying to convince Sirius to go for a run around the Lake. And in case you haven't noticed, it's about minus twelve out there. I think it's his furry little problem acting up. Anyway, I need you to come help me talk him out of it."

"All right, I'm coming." Branwen gathered up her things and followed her brother from the library.



Happy thoughts of soulmates and handsome men who would one day glow quickly vanished from Branwen's mind. On the night of the full moon, the friends gathered once again in the tunnel beneath the Shack. It was well below freezing and, while the four of them enjoyed the warmth of body heat and blankets, Remus had only the adrenaline of his transformation to stave off hypothermia.

Sometime during the night, Branwen cried herself into a numb sort of consciousness. The sound of growling and the tearing of flesh echoed down the tunnel. She knew that, with no other prey, Remus was ripping his own skin, destroying himself for the sake of things out of his control. The agonised cries of her friend brought Dumbledore's words ringing back into her ears with alarming clarity. "I fear a war is coming." How could anyone ask her best friend to fight a war when he already fought a battle with himself every day?

In the tunnel, it was always night. The only signal of the approaching sun was the howls from above. They turned from animal to human in the most excruciating ways. It was the last whine, the whimper of pain that was unmistakeably man, that signalled the friends it was safe for them to enter.

Remus often stripped down before his transformations. The change of his body into a much larger one destroyed his clothes, and he couldn't afford to replace them every month. So when Branwen rushed in to perform her initial treatments, she always brought a blanket and a warm robe to wrap him in. He suffered in new ways each time though, and tonight, no matter how she bundled him, he seemed unable to stop his violent shivers.

The boys helped him through and out the tunnel, where they found an owl waiting for them (well out of reach of the homicidal tree). The bird carried a note from Madam Pomfrey, informing them that the hospital wing was full of students who had caught colds while at the Quidditch match and advising that they simply head back to their dorm.

The strongest of them, James and Sirius, gingerly carried their friend to Gryffindor Tower and laid him in his bed. Pomfrey came to perform a perfunctory examination a few moments later, then left him in the care of Branwen.

While the boys all collapsed into their beds, Branwen sat beside Remus. She gently stroked back his hair with one hand while dabbing at his wounds with a dittany solution. Bite marks littered his arm, almost obscuring the self-inflicted razor slashes. He hadn't stopped shivering.

"It's going to be all right," Branwen whispered. She used a spell to stoke the fire, then used the Summoning Charm to gather more blankets from the linen closest. She felt his forehead. He was still trembling, but cold drops of sweat were beading on his skin."Tergeo." She used the spell to siphon away the perspiration.

"Remus," she whispered. "Remus, may I lay down?"

He managed a slight nod of his head.

Branwen removed her shoes, then peeled back the blankets and slid in beside him. His hand reached out to brush her cheek, his weak touch like a butterfly dancing across her skin. He croaked out a soft, "Thank you."

Her own skin flushed a deep red, and her body warmed enough for the both of them. She tentatively reached out and laid a hand across his chest. They were both asleep within minutes.



They all awoke on Saturday evening. The boys reluctantly pulled out their homework and Branwen brought hers over as well. She helped Peter with his Potions while James and Sirius shared their Transfiguration notes with Remus. It was a quiet weekend. The rain from Friday continued steadily over the next two days.

By Sunday afternoon, homework had been completed and they found themselves engaged in quiet activities. Peter wheedled Sirius into a game of Gobstones, though Sirius switched out the pleasantly-scented stones from the Potters with his own foul-smelling collection. James was writing a letter home, and Remus, still in bed, had a book open on his lap.

Branwen was sitting in front of the fire, downwind from the Gobstone game. She had a piece of parchment open on the floor with a detailed plan and checklist for their upcoming Animagus attempt. She had been over every detail a hundred times and felt certain that this would be it. Bored with the silence, she said, "What do you think yours will be?"

"Um, our what, Bran?" Sirius leaned back on his elbows.

"Your Animagus form. What do you think it will be?"

"We don't get to choose?" Peter's face screwed up in confusion.

"I don't think so," Branwen consulted her notes again. "It just says 'The shape of the creature into which you will shortly transform will appear in your mind.'"

James spun in his desk chair, his chest puffed out. "Obviously I'm going to be something big and awesome. Like a dragon!"

"Pfft! You'll be lucky if you end up a Flobberworm!" Sirius laughed.

"Yeah? Well, you'll probably end something totally useless, like a butterfly or a dung beetle."

"I want to be a hippogriff," Peter grinned.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You hate flying; why would you want to be a hippogriff?"

"Oh yeah," Peter looked crestfallen. "Well, maybe I can be a dog or a wolf or something."

Branwen laughed. "You can't be a wolf! We already have one of those!"

Even Remus joined in the laughter while Peter blushed a bright pink.

"What do you think you'll be, Bon-Bon?"

She placed a finger on her chin, giving the matter serious consideration. "Hmm....it has to be something useful, something big that can take on a werewolf....maybe something like a bear or a lion."

Remus snickered.

"Excuse me," Branwen placed her hands on her hips. "What's so funny?"

"Well, it's just that you're not exactly the ferocious type. I have a hard time imagining you as a giant bear or a roaring lion."

"Then, pray tell, oh great Seer, what do you think we all will be?"

"Yeah, tell us, oh wise one." James and the others piled on to Remus' bed, staring at him like acolytes waiting for word from the oracle.

"Well," Remus straightened himself on his pillows and considered each of his friends. "Sirius, you'll be a dog."

Sirius frowned. "Is this because of my name?"

"Of course. And James, you'll be....something with natural leadership, something like....a horse."

"I could live with that," James shrugged.

"Peter...." Remus squinted at his friend, "you're smaller than the rest of us so you'll be a cat or a rabbit."

"Those aren't very useful," Peter mumbled.

"But they're cute," Branwen poked him in the side.

"Branwen, you're the hardest to place." Remus stared at her so long that she began to blush under the intensity of his bright eyes. "You're clever, like a fox, but jabbery, like a bird. So maybe something like a hawk or an eagle."

Sirius grinned. "Or a Fwooper!" They all laughed at the idea of Branwen as the colourful bird whose voice was known to drive listeners to madness. She laughed along with them, but took a pillow and whacked Remus in the face. It was an instinctive cue that turned the entire room into a mass pillow fight.

It was as though a huge breath they had all been holding was released with gusto. Maybe there was a war coming. Maybe they would have to fight. But not today. Today, the only weapons they would wield were pillows, and the only casualty would be James' glasses, smashed under Peter's heel.