Year of the Dog Duel, Submissions Options

[evlpez]

Another stunning EvlCat Production is here ~




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---- Today begins the Chinese New Year !

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--------------- The Year of the Dog



And in a fortunate turn of events, as of last night, we are discovering more about the family of our favourite dog!!!




In honour of all of this


YOU are challenged to come up with a delightful tale concerning your favourite canine from Potter-verse.
It doesn't have to be Sirius if your favourite is one of the other canid-type characters.



200 to 2,000 words
You decide the time-frame
You will earn extra points if a groundhog makes an appearance.
Due by the 22nd day of the 2nd month





Your reward for sharing your bits of brilliance will be,
not only the undying gratitude of your multitude of fans,

---- BUT ALSO

a specially designed - by the magnificent evlpez -

---- title, avatar and signature

which you may display proudly in your myriad of posts at Project Ferret!






(For the fun of it, click here.)

[McGonagall's Cat]

The Most Intelligent of His Kind



Sirius Apparated to the corner near the market, more out of expediency than anything else. He’d assured Lily he wouldn’t forget - three times - but then he’d been sent to Diagon Alley with a hand-carried message and now he was late.

He dashed through the entrance into delicious smells. “Mr. Oolang! I’m in a bit of a rush,” he said to the shadows in the rear of the shop.

A tiny Chinese wizard with long thin drooping moustaches on each side of his mouth glided to the younger man’s side, looking inquisitive. His fine silk robes barely fluttered around their hem as he moved.

“I need all of these,” Sirius stated hurriedly, handing the shopkeeper a parchment scrap listing several teas and a specific Kona. “They’re supposed to be gifts, so if you have any nice potions bags or tins…?”

With the flick of an elegant finger by the silk-clad wizard, bins popped opened, scoops emptied their contents into assorted fancy embroidered pouches which tied themselves with a flourish, and the whole colourful lot floated to the countertop at Sirius’ elbow. A quick wink, a ‘thank you’ nod, and the exchange of galleons had Sirius on his way in less than ten minutes.

“There’s really no point in Apparating from here; the time saved won’t be worth the discomfort.” Quickening his pace, he set off toward James’ and Lily’s. The chilly March air stung the edges of his ears and nose until he felt forced to activate a warming charm.

“How long have I known that one?” he mused.

Lost in thoughts of second year at Hogwarts, about almost freezing one night when he’d gotten caught out on the North Tower roof after James had tricked him and sealed the door before returning to the Gryffindor Common Room, he was startled by yeowling, growling, and spitting sounds coming from behind a shed to his left. In three swift steps he was around the corner.

A tiny kitten, back arched and fluffed to twice its size was fighting off a terrier and a bigger dog. The cat had already suffered damage from the ratter. There were patches of wet-and-red on the scruff of its neck, but it stood its ground, paw at the ready, claws out, spitting at the two dogs as though it was bigger than either of them. This only encouraged the terrier, who thought it a grand game to dart in, nipping and barking, at the orange ball of fuzz.

After a moment Sirius said loudly, “Not very fair odds there, Mate.”

With frightened yelps, the startled dogs ran off. Still the little cat stood there in scruffy defiance.

Dropping down to a squatting position, the young wizard crooned, “It’s okay little one.”

He slowly stretched out a hand toward the terrified kitten. It backed away until it could go no further. Pressing itself into the angle between the ground and the wall of the shed, the cat shrunk down, ready to strike at this new predator.

Off in the distance the church tower sounded the hour, reminding him he was supposed to be at the home of his friends already. Sirius pulled his wand and softly aimed a healing spell toward the little creature. It fearfully pushed itself even further into the dirt, then seemed to relax a bit as the sting of its wounds disappeared. Putting the wand back into the proper pocket, he extended his hand again. Conflicting feelings seemed to be flashing through the furry little body and it was almost as though the man could hear what the kitten was thinking. He sat back perplexed.

“Look, I’m late. I need to get going. My friends will think I’ve been gotten by the bad guys.” He stood up. “Hopefully that helped a bit. Next time don’t let yourself get cornered by bullies, okay?”

In the most un-cat-like move he’d ever seen, the scruffy kitten suddenly jumped to its feet and looked at him as though demanding to be picked up.

“Oh, so now that I’m leaving you don’t think I’m so bad, eh?”

The kitten twitched its now normal-sized tail adamantly.

A pained expression crossed Sirius’ face and he rolled his eyes skyward. “I’m late for Remus’ birthday dinner, Lily’s going to kill me, and I’m standing here talking to a cat!”

He retraced his path around the shed shaking his head, and started off in the direction of his friends’ house again.

Two steps beyond where the alley joined the next street he glanced back to find the small orange cat following him. He sped up. It ran past him and stood there staring, daring him to walk by.

“For pity’s sake! Don’t you have a home to go to or something?”

It tilted its head in an insolent manner.

“I don’t believe this!” he said scooping it up without breaking stride.


“You’re not much of a looker, are you?” he said as he raised it to eye-level and examined its flat face and patchy coat.

It merely began to purr in a very self-satisfied way.

“Right…”

He gently stuffed it inside his motorcycle-jacket and zipped the front closed, where it settled contentedly into the warm pouchy hammock formed above the coat’s snug waistband.



v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^



The back door was how “family” entered the Potter house - it had been that way at James’ parents’ and the new generation kept the tradition. Last October, when the onslaughts by the Death Eaters had come increasingly close to home, wards had been set to protect the house. Now the only way the back door opened was with their code knock.
Sirius had rapped through it too fast the first time, but made it inside just as sleet began to pelt at the windows.

The kitchen was everyone’s favourite hang-out anyway. Warm and steamy with bright yellow walls and cheerful curtains, it helped combat drizzly dismal days, cold winter nights, and the occasional realization that the world was no where near as safe as they’d expected it to be when they were grown and on their own. It didn’t hurt that Lily had turned out to be an outstanding cook or that the kitchen chairs formed themselves into the exact right size and shape for each person to be totally comfortable, either.


“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered sheepishly as Lily raised an eyebrow.

“And, ‘sorry I forgot the tea’ comes next, right?”

“No, actually…” He started to unload the packets. “Where’s James and everyone else?”

Lily looked a bit uneasy, “Got held up. Order stuff. Promised to be here as soon as they could.”

“Hey, don’t worry. James can take care of himself. It’ll be just fine. Besides, we have a party tonight! ‘S not everyday Lupin turns twenty.””

“There are rumours that they got Edgar’s family last night,” she said quietly. “They’re not confirmed yet, but you know as well as I do that they always do get confirmed.” She looked to be on the verge of tears.

“We’re all going to make it through this, Lily,” he said with a hard-edged conviction. “I intend to keep you and James and the Potter-lette and all my friends safe and well. We’re going to prevail. We have to”

The tone of his voice changed abruptly to a more light-hearted one, and tossing off an absurd salute, he blurted, “Neither snow, nor rain, nor foul Dark Wizards, will keep me from my appointed duty!”

Though she seemed to be breathing a little more evenly it was evident that reality continued to weigh heavily on her mind.

“Come here,” he said pulling one of the chairs out from the table and indicating she should sit. Kneeling on one knee in front of her, he picked up both of her hands in his and continued as though the force of his will had the power to make it so. “It will be alright. We have too much to look forward to.”

He softened a bit, “I intend to spoil this kid you are making, to take her to quidditch matches, to teach her to spit better than a camel… to the point that when we are all old and gray, sitting on the porch in creaking rocking chairs, she’ll like me better and bring me my hot chocolate before she brings yours or James’”

Sadness haunted Lily's eyes.

“But ye of little faith, need a symbol of ongoing life and hope right now,” he said with an impish twinkle in his gray eyes.

Letting go of her hands, certain he had her full – though watery-eyed - attention, he opened the black leather jacket and placed the tiny cat on her lap.

[zymurgy]

The Wolf's Eyes

Remus Lupin grimaced at the recipe. The direction, “Stir swiftly until the mixture turns from a pale green to a vibrant orange,” mocked him. “Bother and blast,” he swore softly to himself.

Remus knew what green was; orange, too. Trouble was, he couldn’t tell one from the other. They were the same color as yellow; different from red, and not at all like the various blues ad purples. White and blue-green were interchangeable as well.

Normally, having the canine vision which had come with his lycanthropy didn’t bother him in the slightest. He could hardly remember any other way of seeing things, and being able to tell what was orange and what was green didn’t really matter, unless, of course, you were trying to make a banner for a Quidditch game. He’d spared many a thankful thought for the fact that Hogwarts had uniforms – he could remember the horrified faces of his family the few times he’d tried to dress himself.

Unfortunately, it was absolutely vital to the magical skill of Potion brewing to be able to differentiate the tiniest gradations of a myriad colors. Normally, Remus could rely on Black to pay attention to things, pretending he preferred preparing ingredients to adding and stirring. For the practical brewing test, however, Slughorn required individual brewing, and would be dividing the room with Obscurus Charms to prevent cheating.

It would have been easier, of course, if the others knew he was colorblind, but, as his mother constantly reminded him, nobody could have the slightest hint about his “unfortunate condition.”

He read the recipe again. Why could none on his sources provide a length of time each step took? Even the Muggles did that, he’d read it himself – “bake biscuits fifteen minutes, or until slightly browned.” At least they’d been told in advance what they’d be asked to brew, he thought to himself, not that it helped much. Bebother the Deflating Draught for being one with greens and yellows in it.

The door to the common room squeaked open, and bare feet could be heard pattering down the stairs. “Somebody in here?” asked a voice.

Remus sighed. “It’s Lupin. That you, Black?”

Sirius Black stepped into the room, blinking sleepily. “You ever coming to bed?”

“Need to study,” said Remus, “Potions tomorrow.”

The other boy came over to the fireplace and sat on the floor with his back to it, the family crest on the pocket of his pajamas glittering in the light. “Come off it, Lupin. Stirring on your own really isn’t that bad. Think of me, having to chop my own beetles! I’ll never have anything prepared on time…”

Remus never could say precisely why he asked Black. Maybe he was simply desperate enough to take a chance. Or maybe he didn’t think the other boy would ever find out why he asked what he did. It might even just have been that it was midnight, a magic hour, and a time to embark on strange adventures.

“Black,” he asked, “can I borrow your Potions notes?”

“Nobody takes better ones than you,” said Black. “What do you want to look at mine for? Doesn’t contain any stirring secrets. – Get it? Stirring?”

“Har har,” said Remus. “No – I wanted to see if you’d kept a record of how long everything took.”

“What for?” asked the other boy with a shrug. “Not like it matters.”

“I’m such an ass,” said Remus ruefully, “I should have known I’d need it.”

“He’s not testing it, is he?” asked Black in a sudden panic. “Oh Merlin, Circe and Morgana!”

“No, he’s not testing it,” Remus assured him quickly. “It’s just … bother it all! I can’t remember.”

“Well, if he isn’t going to ask, why beat yourself around the ears about it?” asked Black. “As long as you can brew the stuff, you’ll pass. And you’re a decent hand at remembering the order of things. Besides, if your so splinching worried about how long it takes cast a Tempus Charm.”

Remus dropped his head into his crossed arms on the table. “I’m going to fail,” he said into his sleeves, “I’m going to fail.”

“Merlin’s Staff!” Black got to his feet and crossed to the couch. Unceremoniously, he pulled the enormous copy of De Bibum Magicum from under Remus’ arms, causing him to thump to the desk.

“Oy!” Remus retaliated with a swift elbow into his roommate’s ribs.

“If your this upset about it, let’s brew it now.”

Remus stared. “Now?” he repeated.

“Yes.” The other boy had a wild look in his eyes. “We can sneak into the classroom, I have the password – then we can both give it a go, practice, like.”

“It’s midnight, Black,” protested Remus, though he was tempted. “You’re out of your tree.”

“No, I’m not,” said Sirius. “And I do have the password – overheard it from one of the Slugs. They’ve all had extra practice, I know they have - its just evening the field a bit.”

“If we’re caught –” began Remus, already knowing he’d agree.

“Then we’ll say we can’t remember anything since going to sleep and we must have been somnabrewing,” laughed Black. “Come on, Lupin, don’t be a prat. I need somebody to help move the cauldrons.”

It was midnight. A magic hour, one for adventure and one for luck. “Right,” said Remus, getting to his feet, and stuffing his notes in one sleeve. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll be right back,” said Black.

“I’ve got my notes,” protested Remus, “the faster the better – I don’t want to get caught by Filch.”

“You haven’t got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Black with an devilish twitch of an eyebrow. “And I saw Potter hiding one yesterday. I’m going to knick it from his trunk.”

“Potter has an Invisibility Cloak?” asked Remus. “A real, diricrawl-hair, Invisibility Cloak? You’re having me on.”

“Am not,” protested Black. “And since he’s not shared it with us, we’re obligated to knick it. It’s simply indecent of him to be hiding it.”

“I don’t think,” started Remus, but Black was already halfway up the stairs.

With a sigh, Remus checked through his notes, making sure he had everything he needed. If he was going to be caught or expelled, he was going to make sure it was worth it. A moment later, he shrieked in outrage and surprise as an unseen hand yanked the hood of his robe over his head.

“Black, you minger!” he shouted, pushing it back, “I’ll get you!”

And there was Black’s head, floating in the air. “Told you he had a Cloak,” he said. “Come on – the Gods of Mischief defend us!”

The walk to the Potions Classroom seemed interminable to Remus. He felt sure Filch or a Professor was lurking behind every corner, that somebody would hear them, that perhaps the Cloak didn’t work after all, or even that Black had arranged this all as some incredibly complicated prank.

At last they were there, and it seemed Black did have the password after all. “Periculum.”

Between the two of them they set up a pair of Cauldrons and a set of ingredients. Remus cast a Tempus Charm, and they both began.

Remus watched Sirius carefully, noting the exact timing for each addition, and following suit closely. At the end of an hour, they both had something with the correct smell, and, so Sirius said, the proper color.

Carefully, Remus folded his precious notes and tucked them into his sleeve. “We’d best clean up,” he whispered, although there wasn’t really any need to, “and get back.”

Black laughed. “Don’t be a prat,” he said, “if they didn’t hear us clunking and burbling they’ll hardly hear you talk – and you won’t be able to watch me during the exam, Obscurus, remember?”

“I won’t need to watch, now that I know when what goes in,” said Remus. “

“Circe’s Hat,” said Black. “Can’t you remember how it goes? You could remember that whole long string of dates for Bins’ class, but not a recipe?”

“It’s different,” protested Remus. “It’s –”

“A list of things in a proper order,” teased the other boy. “You’re a right prat, Lupin, you just don’t want to admit you haven’t been studying up to now.”

“I have been studying,” said Remus, “You know I have.”

“Letters from your mum, maybe,” laughed Black, tipping his Cauldron into the basin. “Bet you you read them in class, too. Why you don’t remember how it goes – you’ll have that paper hidden during the exam, won’t you? Little cheater.”

“You’ve a nerve!” snapped Remus. “Just because I don’t know what yellow is, doesn’t mean –” He stopped abruptly in horror – he’d let himself get wound up and angry, let something slip, and it wasn’t even halfway through the first term.

“You don’t know what yellow is? What are you, colorblind?” Black snorted. “You’re really searching for excuses, mate.”

Remus said nothing but shoved his emptied cauldron back to the wall where it belonged and began placing the ingredients on a tray to take back to the storeroom.

“Wait – you are?” The other boy was just behind him, didn’t seem to understand that Remus didn’t want to talk anymore, was upset, wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. “Ice hot!”

Remus stopped dead. “What?”

“Ice hot,” repeated Black. “Colorblind! That’s brilliant. Did you know – Vladmir Malkov’s colorblind, Russian Seeker, have to charm the Snitch so he can see it against the sky. Was a dead interesting debate about whether to let him play at all, you know, and at the World Cup they sabotaged him, someone removed the Charm halfway through. I was there, top box, you know, and you should have seen his face when Jean Raff caught it…”

Remus slammed the tray onto the nearest shelf. “It’s not funny!” he shouted. “It’s not brilliant, it’s not – it’s not Ice Hot.”

The other boy lost his grin. “Sorry, mate… didn’t mean to upset you, it’s just … interesting, you know, that I know someone who's special like that.”

“S’all right,” said Remus, slightly mollified. “Just, I never can tell when the Potion changes, is all. Never thought Slughorn would make us brew solo.”

“Doesn’t he know?” asked Black, gathering the cloak from where they’d draped it over the chair. “

Remus gave a conspiratorial half-smile. “I’m… I’m not supposed to tell.”

“S’brilliant!” said Black. “Won’t tell a soul, and you’ll not tell about my stealing old Slugface’s passwords.”

“Stealing – but you said you overheard –”

“Shh! I’m not supposed to tell!”

Remus grinned.

“You know what this means, right?” said Black chattily, slipping the Cloak over both of them. “We’ve had a midnight adventure together and we’ve got secrets.”

“Makes us mates, I suppose,” said Remus.

“Inseparable,” agreed Black. “You must call me by my given, and you’ll have to remind me what yours is because I’ve forgotten it.”

“It’s Remus.”

“Ice Hot,” said Sirius.

On the way back, Remus wondered why he’d ever worried on the way down. Everything was perfectly aligned, the staircases right where they needed them, not a sign of another soul awake in the castle.

He and Sirius struggled awkwardly through the portrait-hole on account of the cloak, and removed it.

“Ah HA!” sang a triumphant voice.

Remus and Sirius stopped dead.

James Potter was standing in the middle of the room, and would have looked menacing with his wand in his fist, if the effect hadn’t been ruined by his striped nightshirt. Behind him on the couch sat the mousy faced boy who also slept in their room; Remus couldn’t remember his name.

“Ah, Potter,” said Sirius, tossing the Cloak to its owner, “borrowed your rag for a bit. Guess what, Remus and I have just had the most brilliant adventure!”

“We just brewed a Deflating Draught,” said Remus, “… sorry for taking your Cloak, we…”

“S’all right,” said Potter, dropping into the chair with a cheery grin. “I’ll forgive if you help me an Peter here finish that Transfiguration work. He’s pants at it, and my owl stole my notes – probably mailed them to my fourth cousin or something.”

“We’ll do that,” said Sirius, pulling Remus to sit with the others, “Remus is ace at Transies.”

“Mates, then?” asked James.

“Mates,” agreed Remus and Sirius.

The clock on the mantle chimed - one o'clock.

“Mates,” agreed Peter, belatedly.

[lupinsmyman]

New Year's Blues

Thanks to the wonderful Mcg's cat, here's my edited entry:

Hundreds of fireworks lit up the winter sky. Remus Lupin sat alone high up in an oak tree covered in an invisibility cloak he was supposed to be returning to Alastor Moody for a friend. He had been invited to a party at the Weasley’s, but he denied. Normally he would have jumped on the invitation; he didn’t get many of them these days. But tonight too many memories of the old days weighed heavily on his mind.

Eleven years and three months ago James and Lily Potter had been killed by Voldemort, Harry Potter was living at his muggle aunt’s home, having recently turned twelve, Peter Pettigrew was dead, and Sirius Black was in locked up somewhere in Azkaban.

He sighed, fighting back tears. “Well, here’s to the Marauders,” he said in remembrance of the friends he used to have.

No more full moon fun, no more pranks, no more.. no more..n- He cupped his face in his hands and let the tears fall.

Where am I supposed to go now? I’m so confused. Is there really a God up there? How could this happen? My life is torn apart. All these questions but no answers.

He’d been able to keep his control of his emotions for eleven years, but tonight brought back feelings he couldn’t control.

Scuffling noises came from a clump of bushes.

It’s probably just a dog, he thought

A shrill scream pierced the night and a soft red light came from the bush. A hand flopped into view, but it was quickly removed. Grateful for the cloak, Remus apparated out of the tree he was sitting in and crept closer to see a man tuck a wand inside his robes and drag the stunned woman deeper into a wooded area.

“STOP!” Remus yelled and pulled out his wand.

The man, keeping his face out of view, raised his right hand, which was missing the index finger, waved, and apparated.

There was something familiar about that man. He was short, stout, and had sandy blond hair that was tinged with grey. A gut feeling told Remus that he’d known the man before, but without the face to go with the memory, he was just a thought buzzing inside Remus’ head.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Morning light streaked through the window in Remus’ rented bedroom at the Leaky Cauldron. James had left him a nice sum of money but this was the first he had spent of it.

Walking down stairs into the lobby, he re-read the letter he had written to Albus Dumbledore the previous night.

Albus,
Last night while I was watching the fireworks in a small town in West Sussex, I heard a woman scream. Being under Mad-Eye’s cloak, I went to investigate. I saw a short, fat, man with sandy hair and his index finger on his right hand missing stun and apparate off with the woman before I could stop him. I’m concerned because the man seemed oddly familiar. Please inform me of any information you may have on anyone resembling this man.
Happy New Year,
Remus Lupin.

He attached the letter to a black spectacled owl who seemed glad of something to do. This was the first day of 1993 and Remus still didn’t feel much like celebrating. He grabbed a bagel and some pumpkin juice off of a passing tray that was serving various people around the lobby.

~~~~~~~~~~

Diagon Alley was packed with people from various corners of the world who had come to celebrate the New Year with their relatives. Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor didn’t have any empty seats so Remus took his triple fudge ice cream with brownie chunks with him to Flourish and Blott’s Bookstore.

It was considerably less crowded than any of the other stores he had entered before. He went off into the darkest corner he could find, still eating his ice cream, and started reading Building Magical Homes With Small Galleons by H.G. Tea-Vee II.

After being thrown out by an angry manager for eating in his shop, Lupin was starting to get restless. Strolling along some of the less congested streets he felt as if he had no purpose in this world.

Two men were slightly outlined in the dim shadows. A red light flashed and one fell limply to the ground. Remus raised his arm, wand in hand.

“Expelliarmus!” he yelled.

“Expecto Patronum!” the other man said at the same time.

A shiny silver groundhog emerged from the tip of the enemy’s wand illuminating the surroundings enough for Remus to see a short, fat man with sandy blond hair and a right hand missing an index finger. Then he was knocked out by the groundhog patronus.

Remus woke up, drenched in cold sweat, still in the middle of the street, with a red-orange feather lying on his chest. He quickly jumped up (though he decided that wasn’t such a good idea when the pain shot through his head down to his toes). Dumbledore. He must get to Dumbledore! After the pain dulled he apparated to Hogsmeade.

Thankfully, Hogsmeade was not as busy as Diagon Alley. This allowed Remus to run up to the castle (it was more of a limping jog actually) in about fifteen minutes.
“Drooble’s B-best Blowing Gum,” he wheezed at the statue before Dumbledore’s office.

Dumbledore sat at his large desk looking only slightly disturbed by Remus’ smell and torn robes. A small big-eared house-elf dressed in a towel with the Hogwarts crest on the front stood to the side. Dumbledore motioned for Remus to sit. He did, stroking his blond-grey hair and trying his best to straighten his robes.

“Our mystery man has taken another,” Remus said.
“Yes, unfortunately, he has. I believe he is responsible for several other missing wizards and witches. Tell me Remus, what was so familiar about this man?” Dumbledore’s blue eyes stared into Lupin’s amber ones.
“I don’t know. Just the way he moved, his posture maybe. I ‘m not sure. Just some sort of déjà vu. Do you have any idea as to who he is?”

“Yes, Remus I do, though if I told you, you probably wouldn’t believe it.”

“Try me.”

“Alright. Peter Pettigrew,” he said.

“What? But Peter’s dead! He died twelve years ago! He’s one of the reasons Sirius is locked up in Azkaban!” Remus cried.

Dumbledore must’ve eaten one too many lemon drops to think that Peter Pettigrew was alive! Remus thought.

“Listen, All that was found of Pettigrew was a finger. It would be simple enough to cut off his finger and apparate away after killing twelve muggles. With his family background, Mr. Black seemed a much likelier candidate to commit murder and betray his friends than Pettigrew,” Replied Dumbledore calmly. “I think that he will try to stay true to Voldemort and will try to take Harry Potter. I need you here to prevent that. Though Pettigrew was brave enough to pull off his stunt, I do not think he has enough courage to face you and will probabably stay away as long as you’re watching Harry. That should be an easy enough task with you teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“I still don’t believe you, Albus, but if it means saving Harry from Voldemort’s grasp I’ll do it,” Remus said after five minute’s silence.

Dumbledore smiled. “Good, it’s settled then! This kind elf here will show you to your room. Goodnight – Professor.”

This post has been edited by lupinsmyman: Feb 23 2006, 08:22 PM