Moonlight

11. The Trickster

Milia and Remus spent the next day in the bed. Sirius left them alone most of the time, bringing them water and offering them food. A fine panic built in Milia. I must not be here! I need to go to the fields! She tried twice to convince Sirius to fly her away from the human lands on Buckbeak.

“Milia we’ll be fine. I’ve used the cellar before,” Remus informed her, hugging her close and sending waves of calm over her.

They ate an early dinner that night, for the moon would be rising shortly after sunset. Milia tried hard to swallow around the panic in her throat. I’m in the human lands! The moon will call me! I’ll have no say!

Peace! Remus sent to her, his laugh-lined face desperate to comfort her. “The potion will help you keep your mind.”

“No. No potion!” she half-screamed. Her eyes flashed golden.

“Yes, potion,” Sirius pressed. “In fact,” he said, rising and leaving the room.

“No potion! I will not be tamed!” Milia shouted.

“It will help you keep your right mind,” Remus offered, a worried frown on his face.

“My right mind? Which one is that? The human one? I don’t wish to deny my beast! I have accepted it! If you would accept yours, you would know a true peace. You would not take this potion!”

Sirius returned with a large flask. He took two goblets from the cupboard. Remus pushed his half-finished stew away and rose from the table. He started towards the back of the kitchen, along the right-hand wall from the fireplace. There was a trap door here which he stooped and unbolted before throwing it open.

Milia glared at the stew. Shoved into a hole in the ground! Drugged! No! Goddess no! She clenched her fists around the silverware. “Come, Milia,” Sirius instructed. The steely note of command was back in his voice. Her beast responded to it. She stood slowly and stepped away from the table.

Remus had disappeared down the wooden stairs already. She shuffled to the mouth of the cellar. “Go,” Sirius commanded. A last whine built in her throat. She fell to her knees at his feet. Whining, whimpering, she bowed low before him.

“No, please,” she sobbed. “Take me to the fields. Take me to the mountains of the north! Don’t put me in there!” Her whole body shook. Fear! Pain! Loss! She sent to Sirius. He was deaf to her pleas.

Remus returned to her. “Milia,” he cooed. “Come,” Love! Safety! “Obey him, obey me,” he whispered.

Fear! She screamed at him; the force of the emotion pushing him physically. Remus looked up at Sirius.
“Maybe just give her a shove,” he suggested.

“The moon comes!” she wailed. “She comes! Please! I can’t be here! You must take me to the fields!”

“No, Milia. There isn’t time. Come now!” Remus commanded, an edge of fear on his voice now. She flinched away from him.

“Go!” Sirius shouted, bending and pushing her towards the opening. Remus grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled.

“No, no, no!” she screamed, bucking and kicking against them. Remus dragged her backwards down the stairs.

“I’ll leave the potion here at the top, Remus,” Sirius called before shutting the trap door and bolting it. The finality of the bolt being thrown halted Milia’s struggles. Goddess! Forgive me! She collapsed into a pile of tears. Remus heaved a great sigh and started back up the stairs to collect the potion.

Milia’s eyes shifted. Her pining continued for a minute more, echoing through the dank stone room. The world sharpened around her as the moon called forth her beast. Human conscience shattered, blown away by the power of the moon. She watched as Remus fell down the stairs, landing on all fours, the flask of potion shattering on the stone floor before him. His body bucked and twisted. He cried out in pain and fear, his deep baying howl echoing through the room.

As his transformation ended, tawny fur pouring forth to cover the bare wolf form, Milia’s heart stopped in mid-beat. The last of her tears turned to a warbling howl. Her gut clenched, churned, as the muscles along her back and face turned to jelly. A white hot fire seared through her, melting her. Another howl broke from her; a howl of pain and fear.

Her bones creaked, pulled and strained, each movement its own slice of eternal pain. Her vision blurred as a muzzle erupted from her face, tearing through her skin. Fangs grew from the new mouth. Her bones knitted together, the muscles solidifying along them. Fur burned from her raw skin. Her heart started again, a new rhythm for a new beast. She collapsed to the stone floor, panting.

She stared for a long time at where the potion had broken on the floor. Her human had had one last thought about that, “The Goddess has done her best for me.”

What an odd thought, she thought. The tawny brother stood before her. She looked up at him, not making eye contact. Why have we not gone to the fields, Alpha? She asked.

I have never been to the fields, Trickster, he answered. This hole is familiar. I have been here before. He sniffed around, circling, working his way outward in an ever-increasing spiral. You are new, he added at last.

I am Moonlight, called Trickster, she supplied. The tawny wolf nuzzled along her black fur, taking in her scent, the scent of the pack.

I am Moony, called Lone, he replied. She nuzzled him in turn, rolling his scent across her, remembering it.

You are not Lone, we are pack, Moonlight suggested, lowering herself before him.

Yes. There were others, once . . . The thought trailed off.

Shall we hunt, Alpha? For my belly lays wasted and thin. She nuzzled him again, her muzzle brushing through his thick yellow-brown fur.

There is nothing to hunt in the hole, Trickster, He answered.

Shock! Dismay! Moonlight scented the air. But there is blood here. It is up there. She pointed her nose to the ceiling and scented again, listening. And it is human blood, she sent softly.

Moony growled.Yes it is!

Moonlight’s human remembered the stairs. She started up them, hesitating every few steps. At the top, the way was barred. She whined. So many voices, so much blood!

So much blood, Moony echoed.

Moonlight snuffled where the trap door met the stone floor. With a whimper she scratched at the wood. The voices above them ceased. She held still, waiting.

Nervousness drifted through the tiny crack. They know we’re here, she informed Moony.

We must stop, then, Moony sighed, they will bolt.

But they aren’t, Moonlight said, They’re staying. The nervousness is passing.

Move, Moony ordered, squeezing past her. He pressed against the trap door. It groaned under the pressure. He threw himself up against the wood. A loud thud echoed around them.

The random babble of voices stopped. A note of fear clung to the air drifting into the cellar.

“You did give him the potion?” a snide voice asked. Moony threw himself against the trap door in the silence after the question.

“I gave them the potion,” another voice answered.

That’s the one! Moonlight yapped at the wooden barrier. I’ve tasted him!

“Them?” the snide voice repeated, fear lacing the words. Moony threw himself up again. This time, the wood flew apart in a small explosion. Moony disappeared through the hole. A sudden shriek pelted through the silence. Panic flooded the humans.

Delicious! Moonlight shouted, flying up after Moony.



A dozen humans scattered through the room. They ran towards the one exit. Moony had cornered an older male. A plump female was throwing various objects at Moony, trying to distract him. Moonlight leapt for the female. “Molly!” the familiar voice screamed. Strong hands grabbed her from behind as she flew through the air. “Run!” the familiar voice screamed in her ear. The human had grabbed her?! She snarled and tried for his arm.

Strong hands clamped down on her muzzle, lifting her from the floor by her head. The human hugged her close so she couldn’t move.

Moony! She cried out. The tawny wolf turned, seeing her predicament. He leapt for the human holding her. A prickle of magic crawled through her. The hands released her and the human dropped her. Moony leapt at the human and Moonlight turned to follow the leap. The human had gone! In fact, all the humans were gone! We’ve missed them! She shrieked at Moony. He grappled with a huge black dog. Challenger! Moonlight howled and joined the fight. She dodged in, snapping at the dog’s hind legs. It left Moony and snapped at her; chasing her off. Moony used the distraction to leap upon it, trying for its throat.

The dog twisted and rolled, knocking Moony to the ground. Moonlight jumped on it, grabbing it by the ear and tugging. The dog snapped at her, its jaws closing on her throat. Pain flooded over her; warm blood spilling down across her chest. Gasping, she released the dog and backed away, falling to the stone floor. The battle between Moony and the dog raged around her.

Her heart thundered in her ears. The world grew fuzz around the edges and then darkened.



Milia opened her eyes and winced in pain. When she swallowed, agony tore her throat apart. Her hand flew to her neck. A half-healed wound marred her flesh. Did Remus attack me? She wondered. She looked around.

She lay in the kitchen; or rather what was left of the kitchen. It had been decimated. The table and chairs lay scattered and broken. Crockery and food littered the stone floor. A tacky, half-dried pool of blood surrounded her. Milia felt her throat again. My blood, she thought, swallowing hesitantly.

She pushed herself up and stared around at the havoc. The trap door to the cellar lay scattered about. Blood trailed out the doorway and up the stairs. “Oh, no,” she croaked.

Milia climbed shakily to her feet and headed up to the first floor. She followed the trail of blood into the drawing room.

Remus and Sirius lay curled together in the middle of the floor. Her sob shattered the silence and brought Sirius awake. Milia ran to Remus. Another pool of blood coated the floor beneath him. She knelt in the blood, bending low over him.

“Remus?” she asked.

“He’s alright,” Sirius answered. “He’s practically healed.”

“Did I do this?” she asked, a soft look of horror on her face, ready to turn to tears.

“No. I did it,” Sirius answered. She gaped at him, reaching for her own throat. Sirius nodded. “You may have noticed that you’re not in the cellar.”

“We broke out?” She whispered. “Oh, Goddess. That was not meant to happen. We should have been in the fields or the mountains.”

“I have a feeling Dumbledore will agree to that from now on,” Sirius said with a chuckle.

Milia didn’t join in his laughter. “Is everyone alright? Did we bite anyone?” she asked.

Sirius shook his head, “No, Milia. Everyone got away. I held you two off while they ran for it,” he added.

Remus stirred in his arms. Milia bent over him. “Oh, Remus. Are you well? Can you speak and breathe?” Remus winced as he swallowed.

He took a shuddering breath, “ I don’t think I want to play this game anymore, Padfoot,” he whispered, his voice little more than a weak croak. Sirius chuckled again.

“We won’t, Moony, we won’t,” Sirius assured him. Milia bent and kissed Remus on the forehead.

“You’ve been playing with Padfoot too,” he said, seeing her neck. “It’s a good thing we heal fast,” he added, feeling his own neck, staring at the puddle of blood he lay in.

“Come on,” Sirius said, rising stiffly. “Let’s get cleaned up.” He helped Remus and Milia stand.