The Marauders: Year Seven Part Two

Witherwings

Remus sat on the dusty couch, a cone-shaped Birthday hat on his head, which Sirius had plopped on after Mr. Scamander had dusted himself off. "It's important that you wear it, Moony," Sirius said, "So we all remember who it is that's the birthday boy."

"I think we all know who the birthday boy is," Remus muttered, rolling his eyes up in an attempt to see the cone.

"Never know," Sirius had replied, "I might fuck up and think it's James's birthday." Sirius snapped the elastic that held the cone on Remus's head and it pinged off his chin with a satisfying slap.

Remus said, "So it'll be James you're trying to give a birthday spanking to? Should've known Potter would be stealing you away from me eventually... what with his muscles and all..."

Sirius had roared with laughter at that - "Oh doesn't Potter just wish I would..."

"Actually," James's voice carried from the trap door, where he had just come in time to hear the conversation, "Potter wouldn't."

"You'll be singin' a different tune, rather, on the 27th," Sirius had answered, cackling evilly, even as James greeted Mr. Scamander (or at least greeted his backside, as that was what was showing at the moment) and joined the other two on the couch.

It was the oddest sight to see. Newt Scamander bent double over his suitcase, which lay open on the floor, hands on his hips, looking very sternly indeed down into the case. His gray hair hanging in messy tendrils over his forehead, he had his sleeves rolled up and red suspenders on, his wand sticking up out of his back pocket.

"Moody would not approve," murmured James, nodding toward the wand in Mr. Scamander's back pocket with a snicker.

Sirius lowered his voice to mimic Alastor Moody's low rumble, "Lost a buttock, blasted it clean off! Constant Vigilance!"

"Wonder who the poor bastard is," James snickered, "Walking about with just one cheek on his arse?"

"I doubt highly anyone could walk about with just one cheek," Remus piped up.

"Perhaps he hops," Peter said around a mouthful of tart, having just joined them from upstairs, where he'd gone to hide the food he's collected, "You know. Like Babbity Rabbity's pot." He demonstrated the hopping as he crossed the room to the couch.

"Hope the poor sod's not gay," Sirius said, grinning. "Would make for a rather uneventful romance, 'ey Moony?" Remus flushed and James hit Sirius with one of the ripped up toss pillows from the couch. Peter toppled over and landed across James's lap, which made them all laugh uproariously.

Mr. Scamander's voice cut through the Shrieking Shack and they all looked over at him as he spoke. "Y-you - you b-best come out of th-there or - or I'll accio you and I - I know you don't much like that, do you?" he was saying, his voice louder than he usually spoke, more commanding. Even with the stutter, he still sounded quite authoritative. Peter craned his neck in interest, curious what was lurking just out of sight in the briefcase. "C-come on n-now!"

And suddenly a hoof stuck up over the rim of the case. And then a second hoof... and the creature below pulled himself up out of the case, emerging slowly, a great feathered head and sharp looking beak, great thick neck and shoulders, and a long, sinewy body... The bird-horse hybrid of a creature clopped onto the dusty wood of the Shack's floor, his keen yellow eyes surveying them all.

"Meet Witherwings," Newt Scamander announced, putting a gentle hand on the neck of the beast.

"A bleedin' hippogriff!" James exclaimed, eyes wide with amazement. "You've got a bleedin' hippogriff!"