The Werewolf in the Shack

"Excuse me, what?" 

It was Christmas, well a week before the holiday, when Malfoy stopped her after Potions and pulled her aside. 

"It's already been decided and although my parents are not too keen on it either, your father wants you to spend Christmas with me and my family. I can only guess he wants you to be safe." Lucius whispered, taking short glances above her head at the students.

"Why wouldn't I be? That house protects me." She underlined.

"I don't know. I just know my father invited you over for the holiday after a meeting with your father." He avoided saying more just in case she won't come. "You don't have a choice."

"I figured," she commented before she left.

Lucius sighed and turned towards the common room when he noticed Mulciber staring at him. The blond rolled his eyes and ignored the young boy, already aware of the rumors going around the house. He knew, from the beginning, that Ophelia's interest for the dark arts will backfire. Mulciber was just one, the Slytherin house was bigger than Mulciber and none were content with her presence there.

Later on, in the common room, Ophelia sat on the armchair next to an even sour looking Charlie Wood. She wouldn't have started a conversation if it wasn't for how much she wanted to avoid talking about herself to others.

"Why are you so grumpy?"

"McGonagall pulled me aside today and told me that I should reconsider my future. Besides, I may have to give out my position as captain of the Quidditch team."

"I thought you wanted to become a professional player," Ophelia replied, looking down at her hands.

"Actually, I wanted to work at the ministry, in the department of sport events. She told me I should aim higher," he said, disappointed. "You should consider this problem too, Molley. The years will pass really fast and you'll wake up one morning with McGonagall asking you what you want to do with your life." 

"I'm only a third year."

"Exactly. You should experience everything while you still can."

Ophelia nodded, smiling back when Charlie ruffled her hair as if he was so much older than her. They were both still very young, at the beginning of their lives really, and they should both enjoy it. All that theory came around when everyone went to bed and Ophelia stayed behind. It was past midnight when she sneaked out of the common room and went on a stroll through the castle. There were many things she had to consider and many questions that revolved around her father. She thought she will see her all through August after he took her with him but she only saw him once. 

And there was the guilt again. Every time she'd remember her training, Dylis' face would pop up, his big blue eyes looking at her with hope. It was so unfortunate how discrimination was even in the magic world. Slytherins bullying younger or defenseless students, the ever growing discrimination suffered by house elves and the horror they go through whenever they make the smallest mistake, the desire to earn as much power as possible...the wizarding world was not so different after all. It was all about the people and their individual needs.

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Walking aimlessly around, she ended up stepping out of the castle and breathing in the air of winter. She closed her eyes and smiled, for a moment forgetting everything and letting herself into the wind. That worked for a few minutes until she heard a set of steps. It was so silent that that particular sound was hard to miss. Being naturally curious, Ophelia followed the noise to a medium sized willow, planted in the middle of the school grounds. She had seen it before, was aware it existed but never once did she see it move. 

"Wow," she gasped at the scene, her eyes widening so much that it looked they were going to pop out. 

Gazing at the willow, she noticed a person running towards its trunk before it vanished. That single fact was so mesmerizing that she had to go and try it too. She was getting very good at sneaking -having to hide the fact that she was taking a probably illegal extracurricular activity with suspicious students- thus she easily reached the willow without having it react violently. Bending over, Ophelia realized there was a hollow in the trunk and out of the darkness she heard a growl. Her heart beats increased and her hands were sweaty but curiosity was above safety for her.

Walking down the tunnel, the growl became more accentuated. She was walking into a possibly dangerous place but she couldn't stop, literally she couldn't stop her legs. Growl changed into really loud noise, crashing and slamming and heavy breaths yet she didn't stop. She walked a set of stairs before she opened the door and entered warily. The noise was so much louder and if she were to be sincere, it felt like Hansel and Gretel, only she wasn't lost and it wasn't a candy house. 

Learning from muggle stories that announcing your presence is not a good factor, she swallowed nervously and continued to explore without making any noise. She wasn't sure where exactly she was but it felt like no one has been there in a while and the last times were very difficult; the furniture was scratched or thrown around bust most of it was covered by dust and the passing of time. Looking up at a mirror, she noticed something moving up the staircase and hurried after it. Ascending, her heart beats quickened even more than before in anticipation. The corridor was empty but one room was opened. Her footsteps were not loud enough to draw attention but it seemed like her breathing was; in front of that room, Ophelia stopped and gasped at the view. 

"A-A we-werewolf," she whispered, scared but amazed. In front of her eyes, a real werewolf was glaring at something under the bed. He most definitely heard her because he turned towards her and growled. "Oh my," she was speechless.

One moment was all it needed for the werewolf to attack her and she still didn't run back to the tunnel. Finding a piece of a leftover furniture, she tried to fight the beast that was drooling and huffing madly.

"I guess a conversation is out of question," she mumbled, hoping he won't bite her or worse, kill her. 

The werewolf ran after her in a way that cornered her in the room thus she had to make an opening so she could get out. That was easier said than done, even if the werewolf wasn't very big. Seeing how he was standing with his legs apart, she figured that was the only way she could slip through. It didn't work well because the werewolf caught her hair and threw her out the hall, against the opposite wall. Ophelia's eyes widened, feeling her back hurt like never before. She got up, holding onto the wall in case her legs will give out and looked at the creature. The werewolf was scoffing at her and her naivety that she could outrun him. She sprinted down the stairs but around half down, she heard a cracking sound and fell the rest of the way down. Ophelia didn't have time to whine when the werewolf jumped at her, hovering over her, ready to tear her apart. Being so close, she could smell his breath and could see his brown eyes. She was scared but she wasn't, it was so strange how those brown eyes, no matter how much they were glaring at her with such a fury, seemed comfortable. In that moment, she felt her eyes sting, as if she was crying yet she was sure she wasn't and then it happened again; green light blew out of her hands and threw the werewolf on the stairs, quite harshly from what she heard. 

Returning to the castle with a werewolf left unconscious behind was not what she had planned when she sneaked out but it didn't kill her either. Unfortunately, as soon as she stepped inside the entrance hall, dragging herself towards the stairs, she passed a man. Ophelia stopped and licked her lips, thinking in advance how to explain her injury and the rule breaking. 

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Instead of talking, Dumbledore helped Ophelia towards the hospital wing. He was letting her hold onto his arm, which felt just as warm and safe as back when he held her hand after her mother died. Madame Pomfrey was awake when they arrived and immediately took Ophelia to a bed, helping her with her sprained ankle. 

"You'll have to spend the night here, dear. I'll give you something to make you as new but it will hurt a bit," she announced before she smiled at the student and went to retrieve the medicine.

Ophelia turned to Dumbledore but quickly averted her eyes on her fidgeting hands. 

"How did you know?" she asked, still not looking up at the headmaster.

"I didn't. I was on a stroll, clearing my mind and we happened to meet," Dumbledore made it sound like it was all a coincidence but his eyes were glinting suspiciously. "What did you see, Ophelia?"

"A werewolf," she answered right away.

"Is that all you have seen? A beast may not be one if you take a closer look, am I right?" Ophelia looked up at the headmaster, registering his words as a way to admit it was definitely not a coincidence how they met. "Our usual patient shall arrive later, Miss Pomfrey!" Dumbledore announced the nurse before he offered a smile and walked out. 

The night progressed slowly with Ophelia having an unexpected dream.

[Dream]

It was back when she was in Aviemore with the orphanage. She was in the forest, in the moment she felt more afraid than when her mother died. Being older and with quite a few experiences at hand, she could notice details she hasn't before, like how it's gotten so cold that she could see and hear the flora freezing. Ophelia took a step back and turned, grass breaking under her feet as the familiar cloaked figure rose above ground and hovered over the girl. 

It was strange how everything stopped right before the Dementor could extract the happiness out of her and she could really see the creature with a hole instead of a mouth. It was far less intimidating after the training with Rabastan but the image was still very odd. The witch moved and walked past the Dementor, searching for something, anything. 

"You have grown a lot since I had last seen you, Ophelia," 

The voice was not one she recognized right away. She had never met him, because it was definitely a man's voice, but she did hear his tone before. 

"Who are you? Where are you?" Ophelia asked, turning around, yet not seeing any curious man hiding in the bushes.

"Down here,"

Ophelia looked down and saw a black kitten, standing with its blue eyes staring straight at her. The kitten tilted his head to the side and so did Ophelia, confused. 

"Haven't I seen you before? Or do all black kittens look the same?" she asked, bending in front of the black fur. He was adorable, the witch gave him that, but he also smelled funny. "Is this a dream?"

"This is a memory; your memory to be exact." The kitten spoke, his lips literally moving like in those muggle cartoons. "I brought you here so you could understand what happened back then."

"A Dementor attacked me, what's there left?" 

"Dementors don't attack people on their own. Muggles can't even see them. So then, why was a Dementor in a muggle forest, lurking around two children?" The kitten continued, asking usual questions yet Ophelia wasn't particularly interested in that topic.

"Where do you want to go with this theory?"

"Follow me," the kitten urged the girl, running the opposite direction from her original spot in the memory. He ran for a minute or so when he stopped and glared at nothing in particular. "He's here. He was here before and still is but so am I." 

"Who?"

The kitten hissed but bright green light erupted from under the ground and the memory shook, creating the impression that the ground will break apart. It didn't, not at first. Looking down, the kitten was gone and the same cold pressure hovered over Ophelia from behind. She spun around, right hand out in order to defend herself but she didn't have to. A cold hand wrapped around her face, pulling her back into a firm chest and she felt her eyes bleed out. 

[End of Dream]

Ophelia's eyes widened and she jolted out of bed, breathing heavily and trembling from every bone. She didn't have time to fully grasp what happened because the doors opened and a ragged brown haired boy stumbled inside. He looked up when Madame Pomfrey rushed to his aid, helping him to the nearest bed. Ophelia couldn't see well since it was dark but it was obvious it happened before; Madame Pomfrey seemed used to the sight and quickly started to work on his wounds. 

Ophelia laid back on the bed and calmed herself before staring at the ceiling, the dream repeating in her mind. That kitten questioned something that she never really cared about so why would it be important now?

With those thoughts, she fell asleep once again but woke up an hour later. Curiosity was killing her so she tip toed to the other patient, who was sleeping soundly a few feet from her, and peeked at his face. Her eyes widened when she saw Remus but she wasn't surprised. Taking a closer look at his body and all the wounds and scratches, the poor boy was half bandaged and the other half didn't look well either. 

"He's suffered a lot, poor boy." Madame Pomfrey appeared out of nowhere, scaring Ophelia, "If only that monster wouldn't have bit him, he could have a normal life. Thankfully, we have Dumbledore and he gave this young man a chance," she added, checking on Remus' condition.

She had seen it before, in his mind when she unconsciously entered and noticed discrepancies but now that she had the proof, it was so much emotional for some reason. 

"Professor Dumbledore seems to give many chances." Ophelia muttered, moving aside.

"He only reaches out to those whom he knows will grab his hand." Madame Pomfrey said and smiled at the girl before she walked into her office.

All alone with Remus, Ophelia didn't know how to react or what to feel. The boy sleeping in front of her was a werewolf, he attacked her and the pain in her ankle was because of him but at the same time, those brown eyes she looked into while in that form were the same she looked into when they first met. 

Next morning, Ophelia left before Remus, deciding she should keep the secret to herself and not have others question her or how she got the scratches on her arms and back. Besides, Malfoy was leaving that night and she had to go with him and there was also the issue of the Hogwarts Express ride.

"We're not taking the train." He answered when she asked during lunch. "We'll use the fireplace in Slughorn's office. You better be ready by the time I leave."

"Or what, you'll leave without me?" she asked, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

"No. Otherwise, you'll be escorted by Bellatrix." Lucius answered, seeing the immediate difference in Ophelia's expression. 

"I'll be there by dinner time," the young witch muttered as she turned and dragged herself to the Great Hall.