The Werewolf and the Twin

“Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”

❦❦❦

For a moment, everything stood still. My lungs wouldn't cooperate, my skin was chilled, there was a trembling in my fingers that I couldn't control.

Blood rushed in my ears, drowning out everything but a vicious beat of my aching heart. Distantly I noticed McGonagall get up, face livid and stern.

She seemed to be arguing with Umbridge, shaking her head and getting angrier by the minute. I struggled through a sharp breath and then sound and feeling rushed back.

“... have no proof!” McGonagall was saying, biting out the words.

Malfoy shook his head beside me. “I watched her sneak out to the Shrieking Shack myself and come back thing morning looking like someone had beat her. The bruises at her joints are from shifting and she obviously didn't sleep last night.”

“Probably because she was too busy turning into a monster.” Bulstrode sneered and I resisted the urge to flinch.

Anger started trickling in now, worming past the horror and fear. How could I have been so much of a fool to underestimate him? Wasn't that always a fatal mistake?

How could I have been so stupid as to think I could have fooled anyone.

“That sounds like enough proof for me.” Umbridge tittered, shifting the collar. Snarling, I bared my teeth at her, that trickle of rage exploding into a fury that boiled my insides.

How dare she?! I'm not some animal to be tied up! How dare she want to collar me?!

As my anger grew, the animalistic side of me that had been amplified by the werewolf venom reacted, a survival mechanism that sharpened everything. My gums ached- my canines enlarging, pushing outwards from my jaw. My muscles felt shifted slightly, toning and leaning up. My fingernails lengthened and sharpened, cutting into the palms of my hand.

I wasn't tired and sore and weak anymore. I felt fire rush through my body, setting me alight. The hybrid strength that coiled within me rose and I was no longer afraid of the stupid, fat witch in front of me. The rope around my arms no longer felt strong and constricting- instead they felt weak and nothing compared to the anger that fueled my own strength.

I was iron and rage.

In less than a heartbeat, I reacted.

I slammed my head backwards, smashing the crown of my skull against Bulstrode's face, breaking her nose with a sick crunch. She howled with pain and flailed with her right arm. Ducking under it, I twisted, snapping the rope around my arms with no effort. In the same movement, I reached for my wand, which had been tucked into the front of my skirt.

It all happened so fast it was still a few seconds before Malfoy had the sense to point his wand at me. I was in a defensive stance, feet spread wide, wand sparking with my agitated magic.

Umbridge hadn't moved. She, instead, was gazing calmly at me which was unnerving. Bulstrode was still moaning and clutching her nose which was pouring blood down her neck.

The aspects of the werewolf- large canines, sharpened nails, leaner muscles- had calmed down a little since I got my wand in my hand. But I still saw red, I still was pulsing with anger at the bitch who wanted to collar me for something that happened once a month in a controlled environment.

“MissVanderwik, think carefully about your next move.” Umbridge started, “You have no where else to go. Your parents are dead, no school will accept you once I tell them what you are, if I expel you, you will have no home here, or anywhere else in the magical world because no one would take a monster like you.

“My duty as headmistress is to keep my students safe and I can't do that if we have a wild animal running around which is why we need the collar. But, if you choose to reject it, you will be expelled and forced to leave the grounds immediately. Think wisely.”

Forcing myself to breathe was difficult. If I was expelled, I couldn't go back to the orphanage, wouldn't want to go back to that dismal place. My kind wasn't accepted in the magical world. I wasn't of age yet so I wouldn't be able to get a job, not that anyone would hire a werewolf even if I was of age. My friends, the only ones I had, would be here, where I couldn't join them.

I had just found people who accepted me for what I was, I found a boy who liked me despite that, and I could lose them all.

I would be alone again.

I would be alone and heartbroken.

And for as strong as I prided myself to be, I wouldn't be able to handle it.

Not again.

I didn't know what the collar would do to me, but whatever is was, it was worth staying with my friends. Was worth staying with people that liked me for me.

Glancing up at McGonagall, I saw her shake her head, almost imperceptibly and just like that, I'd decided. The anger, which had fueled me before, faded away and I was left hollow and so, so tired.

I shifted from my defensive stance, canines shrinking, my wand stopped sparking. Umbridge smiled cruelly, knowing that I had chosen the collar to stay with the people who I liked to think of as my family now.

She shuffled closer and it took everything in me not to back up because for however much I hated her, the power she had over me now scared me. Umbridge unbuckled the thick leather of the collar, reaching up to wind it around my neck, covering my thrumming pulse.

I stood with my chin high, despite the aching of my heart. It clenched painfully as I heard the collar buckle into place.

And it was like any will I had was sucked into the collar, any power and strength left in my veins was gone and it was hard not to stagger to my knees. Tears built up in my eyes, blurring Umbridge and Malfoy and the bleeding Bulstrode.

I didn't care if she dismissed me or not. I took a step backwards and then turned, my chin still high, my knees shaking with the absence of hybrid strength I was used to. Looking at my friends who sat speechless at the Gryffindor table was not an option- looking anywhere but the Great Hall doors wasn't an option.

It was strangely silent for a room of a few hundred people, and I didn't have to look to know the stares that were going around. The stares that were aimed at me- I'd had five years experience with stares aimed at me.

So, I walked out of the Great Hall, alone with my thoughts, which seemed to be absent. I didn't know how long I walked.

Or where.

Only that, all too soon, the muscles in my legs, tired from the nights shifting and the anxiety and terror, gave out, sending me crashing forward. Landing on my knees and the heels of my palms against the stone floor hard enough to rip the skin, I just stayed there, not caring about the cold seeping into my skin, making the ache inside of me just that much worse.

Eventually, I heard foot-steps. Glancing up with bleary, unfocused eyes, I saw McGonagall and I shuffled to my feet wearily.

“Sorry, I'm in your way. I'll just...” I trailed off, mind too haggered to complete a sentence correctly.

McGonagall gave me a look, before walking cautiously forward and gently laying an arm around my shoulders.

“Come along.” she said, and I obediently, mindlessly, let myself be pulled along. In the haze of my mind, where I didn't know what to think, only that my thoughts kept straying back to this damned collar, it took me a minute to notice we were in McGonagall's office.

She sat me in a chair and then left for a minute, coming back with a bowl of steaming water and a white cloth. McGonagall took one of my scraped hands and dabbed gently at the torn up skin I couldn't feel.

“Miss Vanderwik...” McGongall started uncomfortably and I was startled to find I was crying, silent tears running down my cheeks.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” I said, not knowing what to say. And then it got worse, now that I noticed my tears. The clouded my vision again as McGonagall finished wiping my knees.

I started crying in earnest now, great sobs that hurt my chest.

I was an outcast again, bound by a collar because I didn't want to be torn from my friends. People knew what I was, and that never boded well for me.

Distantly, I was aware of McGonagall get up but soon there was a new presence by my side and I glanced up from my knees that I had shoved my splotchy face into to see Harry, eyes suspiciously bright behind his glasses. At his worried expression, I started crying even harder, clutching onto him for any sort of grounding he could give me.

“It's okay, Ariel.” he murmured to me in soft tones, “We'll make it okay. I promise.”

Harry stayed sitting next to me on the chair for I don't know how long but by the time I finally hiccuped out my last tears, I was surprised to see it was dark outside the windows.

Apparently having an emotional break-down really passes the time.

Harry gently pulled me up- my joints stiff from one position for so long and I knew Harry had it just as bad. He grabbed onto my shoulders and made me look at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, which I thought was rather a foolish question but I knew what he was getting at.

“I will be.” I responded, my voice hoarse and weak. It didn't really inspire confidence but Harry nodded nonetheless.

Looking around the office, I saw that McGonagall was no longer there but wasn't surprised I guess.

So, what do I do now? Everybody knew my secret. Nothing much to hide anymore. I'm sure I'll be kicked off the Quidditch team and would now have to stand even more stares and much more vicious comments from students.

As Harry and I headed wordlessly out of the office and towards the Gryffindor commons, I decided I'd think about it all tomorrow. My head felt like it was stuffed cotton from all the crying and I was too tired to do any sore of emotional grounding and barricading tonight.

My worst fears had been realized, and it was now time for me to live my own personal hell.

I just hoped I would survive it.