Have Fangs, Will Travel: Early Morning Aftermath

Lj rolled over in the sludgy snow, now swearing non-stop. Blood 
ran from her arm, staining what little of the snow was actually white. 
Pushing herself to her feet, she picked up her backpack and stared 
off after the dogs. Big, flesh eating dogs. Probably rabid. Such a 
lovely way to start off a Monday.

Her clothes were soaked through, her knees were torn and skinned, and 
her right shoulder was an attractive shade of crimson. Her backpack was 
fortunate enough to land in a puddle of the half-melted street sludge, 
so what little homework she did was probably beyond deliverance.

Pain shot through her, and she dropped to a crouch. “Yes,” 
She mumbled through a hiss of agony, “this would be hell is like.”

It was then that she remembered that she had to go to school. 

“Screw that.” She mumbled, throwing herself back to a standing position 
and moving swiftly towards home, howling something about deranged 
housepets before abruptly stopping, swaying unstedily, and passing out.

-------------------

Lupin’s eyes fluttered. Then stopped. Then fluttered again, and shut harshly. 

“Turn down the lights.” He mumbled groggily, before realizing he was outside. 
He winced when he realized that his pillow was a large rock, and his blanket 
was God-knows-what. He groaned. “Please let me die.”

A dire chuckle from next to him brought him to his senses. “I think 
the Ministry’ll take care of that for you.”

The memory’s of last night’s escapade flashed through his head. The moon, 
the metallic taste of blood, the black dog. The...girl!

“Padfoot!” He cried, recognizing his friend’s voice. His eyes flew open 
and his concern and horror shown brazenly in them. “What happened? 
Is she-”

“Alive, yes.” Sirius said, his voice also revealing more stress and 
reprimand then he intended. “But she was bitten. You know that much.” 
He paused, and his voice took on a much more thoughtful tone. 
“It’s interesting, though...I don’t reckon a muggle’s ever been bitten 
before...certainly not to my recollection...”

“Yes, yes, ask Binns when you get back to Hogwarts.” Remus muttered, distracted. 

Sirius snorted. “Have I ever asked a teacher anything?”

Remus imitated the snort. “No. That would not only reveal that you’re 
not omnipotent, but that teachers have higher mentality than you. 
Which they do.” He added dryly. 

Sirius chose to ignore him. “Speaking of Hogwarts...how’d you 
get here? England isn’t an easy place to apparate from. Not with the 
ministry as strict as it’s gotten. Particularly if your trying to get 
to America. Espically then if you happen to be a werewolf. Isn’t there 
paperwork? What did you say, ‘I’ve got to meet my friend, the escaped 
mass murderer, to help him on a secret mission that the ministry would 
feverently dissapprove of, if they were even remotely aware of what was 
going on’? Better yet, how’d they respond?”

“Oh just shut up.” Remus ran his fingers through his unkempt hair and 
ignored the majority of his attention-starved friend’s babble. “I flew.” 

Sirius goggled at him. “On a broom?”

“No you idiot! On a plane! You know, those big, metal muggle bird-things?” 

Sirius shrugged. “You know, when I asked for you to help I wasn’t 
exactly expecting you to accept.” He grinned. “Try and say that 3 times fast.” 

“I’d rather not.” Remus groaned again, trying to blink away the perpetual 
headache. “You’re too damn perky for...what time is it?”

“9:00 am.” Sirius smiled his lopsided grin, then his face pursed 
into a look of complete seriousness. “We’ve got to go back to Hogwarts 
now that you’re up. Get this whole thing sorted out. You’ve already broken 
about a dozen laws in the past 24 hours. Apparating out of country without 
a license won’t hurt. 
To Hogsmead!” He transformed into a dog and moved closer to the 
now standing Remus. 

“I’m so screwed.” 

Sirius made a nodding motion before Remus grabbed the scruff of his 
neck and they both dissappeared. 

------------------- 

When Lj woke it was light out. Spots flashed before her eyes in erratic 
patterns. She was now thoroughly agitated.

“Geez, I look like a friggin’ homeless person.” She muttered, staring 
down at her gray t-shirt which was now the color of sludge, except for 
the red stain all down one of her shoulders. Soaked to the bone, pale 
and trembling with the cold, she grabbed her backpack and tried standing. 
Her head spun, but she kept her consiousness.

Walking unsteadily up the gravel road, she paused and hesitated before 
pulling her sleeve up over her shoulder. 

The wound was horrid. Punctures that could not be taken for anything 
other than teeth marks were beginning to scab over, but blood was oozing 
fresh from some of them because of all her movement. Upon closer inspection, 
each gash was rimmed with white, pale flesh while the rest of her shoulder 
was a bruise, so dark it was nearly black. 

“Urgh.” Yes, that pretty much summed up the morning completely. 

She walked up her ice-covered driveway, hearing the concerned yelps of 
her little brothers and the scream which had to be her mother.