Wolf Like Me

by WolfAngel'JR

What's a genuine full moon like to a spirited, horror fan wizard/werewolf child in muggles' London? While the ladies of his family have disturbing issues with werewolves? Takes place in 1990. Pre-Hogwarts, One-shot. Part of a series featuring my original characters.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe nor Harry and Dumbledore's characters who is mentioned, but they belong to J.K. Rowling.
Genre: Drama/Angst/Horror
Rating: 16+/M
Characters: Only my original characters, main character a werewolf child.
Chapters: 1 (but this story is a part of a series featuring these characters)

Warnings: Strong language. Strong and graphic violence (mostly between animals.)
Sensitive issues/topics; historical reference to a rape attempt. Refered to and described spanking of a child.

Author's notes:
1. IMPORTANT! This is mostly my personal vision on werewolves! Because the author of the books never revealed much about hers, and I adapted or ignored a couple of rules she actually did set. So, to be safe, please ask me first before using anything from this vision. Thank you.
2. Because I don't describe the appearences in too much detail, if you wish, you could type "hunter harry potter oc" on YouTube search and it should bring up 6 videos about him, including 3 trailers for this story. (Under the username wolfoutlaw).
3. These are all fictional characters, as in nothing to do with the celebrities except the looks and voices. (Sidenote: Hunter's growth rate is made-up.) Very common in works of fiction for the author to imagine the character to look like some celebrity, and no offense intended to anyone.

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"At the end of the day, a loving family should find everything forgivable."

- Mark V. Olsen & Will Sheffer

WOLF LIKE ME

The February full moon lit Jacob's way as he walked home from overtime work, hating the feeling that took over him every month this night. For most of his adult years he'd successfully helped to make the world a better place—in the police force—but it no more made him feel good because he felt he'd been failing to do so for his own family. His son did appear happy around full moon, but then it was easy with the Wolfsbane Potion keeping him relatively normal and his condition secret from those they didn't want to reveal it by themselves. It had been a risk to send him to a muggles' primary school, but the potion proved to hold back the bloodlust to just occasional craving of raw meet and the restlessness was also down to rather normal for a child of his nature. Only in couple of occasions he'd had to call him in sick around full moon. As the boy's senses had been unusually sharp around the year from the start at the school, it had soon been taken as a useful thing instead of something suspicious. But Jacob was sure this happy state would change once the boy would grow to see just how much of a curse his condition really was. Once the boy was old enough to live for tomorrow instead of just for today, once he would begin to chase his dreams…and the society would shun him…or worse. There was always someone finding out…

"Why's the door unlocked?" he called out to the dark hallway as he shut the door behind him. No answer and a completely silent house caused him suspicion that something wasn't right. Normally there was always something going on. As he reached the living room, his hopes that the kids had just gone out against his wishes were shattered at the sight of an evident struggle. Still he hoped it was just the two gone wild without a babysitter. But he couldn't help his imagination as he had seen too much during his long career as a crime police, while his baby brother's disappearance all those decades ago, remained a mystery.

"Hunter? Freya?" he called out, sounding relatively calm for he found no blood or anything more dramatic than knocked over and shattered stuff as he looked through the rooms in the first floor. The more chaos he found the more sure he was that something out of usual had happened. He reached for his truncheon on his belt and was just about to climb upstairs when the phone rang. In his ears it couldn't have sounded more ominous.

One hour earlier…

A young boy, around ten years of age, was sitting at an open window of his room upstairs. He appeared like any other little boy, but in his head for the moment there was little left of the child he was. His hazel eyes were eagerly staring at the full moon in the horizon and his mind was spinning with a scream for freedom as he breathed in deep. The cool night air of the suburban area filled his senses with countless scents only the dogs and cats on the streets could know. Some of them good, some bad, but to him the most pleasant was that from the few people outside, the neighbours on their rear yards. He kept on listening. For a moment the sounds of distant cars passing by and the soft discussions of the neighbours, faded to the background and all he heard was their hearts pumping, each beat causing the red liquid course through their veins with the sweetest sound while the scent took over. It was intoxicating. He closed his eyes and tried to get a hold of the moment, but found it hard. Only during his first full moon had he paid this much attention to living creatures' blood or felt this strong urge to be free. He had wanted to experience a more genuine full moon like all those in the movies. He just hoped that skipping one night of taking the potion was enough but not too much. He was wearing comfortable and easy to move in clothes; light, black-and-blue sneakers, thin fabric black jeans and black, simple t-shirt.

He had barely laid his right foot on the first step of the fire ladders at the window when he was startled by a triumphant shriek which gave him a fright and caused him to bump his head painfully into the frame of the window.

"HA! I knew it! You convinced not to get us a babysitter just so you could sneak out and not to prove how oh-so-mature you can be! Busted!" his 7-years old little sister said, grinned and crawled out from under his bed, her long, blonde hair full of dust as were her clothes similar to her brother's, only she was wearing white sandals, light-blue jeans and white sleeveless shirt.

"Get out of my room, troll!" he yelled in anger, more out of the pain than of any surprise of the girl being there, as it was not such even though she was supposed to be in bed by then. He glared at her and with his hand pressed the sore spot under his black hair of a messy, spikey hair-do.

"Sure. I already got what I wanted. I cannot believe he bought it!" Freya continued oozing with glee.

"He didn't. This is part of the deal. He knows I'm gong out for a while, so there is absolutely no need to tell him," Hunter tried his luck and actually managed to sound quite convincing, his annoyed stare fixed at his sister who was cleaning her pretty hair from the dust balls.

"Oh, brother, do you even know how not to lie?" she stung, a grin still playing on her lips.
Hunter snorted. He didn't lie more than an avarage child. Except sometimes around full moon when he wanted things his way, or the wolf's way.

"Yeh, how about that—would it be possible for you to be a sister for a change?" Hunter commented quietly.

"At least I'm human all year 'round," he heard her mutter under her breath.

"Well, I cannot help this. And when is your last lonely brain cell going to get that anything you do to me will not bring mum back? How can you even remember her? Guess what, I do and she was never much of a mum anyway."
An angry silence fell between them.

"But you cannot go," she just said as if she was his mother.

"Watch me," Hunter stated and climbed all the way out of the window, not caring anymore. Noticing it killed her interest in telling on him.

"Then I'm coming with you," she said in a demanding tone and rushed to the window. There was no way Hunter would get to leave and have fun and she'd have to say home all alone.

"No, you're not. I want to be alone," he forbid, half way down the fire stairs. "Besides, I won't be long anyway."

"If you don't take me with you I'll just follow you like a shadow—a far away shadow!" Freya said from the top of the stairs. He stared up at her for a moment, pondering his chances. Any other night he would've gladly taken her with him but tonight he could not look after her, especially not if she was following him from distance. And even though he had lately hated or disliked and bullied her most of the time, he didn't want her really hurt.

"If you're going to have a secret adventure, I want to be part of it or I'll tell about it!" she declared her decision.

"Fine, I won't have it!" Hunter snapped and started back up the fire ladders. Freya snorted.

"So you were up to some mischief again that you didn't want me to see? You think I don't know why you need to be locked up even with the potion? Your human mind is—"

"The potion? Oh no," Hunter's dramatic exclaim cut her off. "I forgot to take it tonight!"
Freya's eyes grew larger but she tried to remain cool.

"Very funny," she said dryly, but her taking couple of steps backwards gave away that she believed it was possible.

"No, it's true!" He was fighting back a grin while in his mind the words were more like 'no, not yet'. "And now that I have to stay, all I have for company is you..." he said, putting emphasis on 'you' as an unpleasant matter.

"Well, go take it right now!" Freya ordered bravely and pointed at the floor, Hunter's room being directly above the kitchen.

"OK," Hunter stated calmly and climbed over the window ledge, back to his room and walked past his sister.

"You were sneaking out after not taking the potion? Oh, you're in sooo much trouble, when I—" Freya yapped at him, cautiously following him a few steps behind. She sounded very serious now.

"Oh no, sis, Think it's you who's in a big trouble," Hunter said quietly and turned around. His fangs had grown to remind more of those of a wolf and his eyes had turned blue. As he lifted his right hand, Freya also noticed his finger nails were taking a whole new shape. "For some reason it's begun much earlier than usually! I don't know why!" he said, his tone excited and ominous.

"Get away from me!" the girl screamed in utter fear and stumbled away and towards the stairs leading to the first floor. Inside, Hunter laughed as he watched her go. He wished he had taken advance of his ability to cause minor changes at power of will already a long ago. He had no real intention to hurt his sister but this turned out to be a good way to get back at her…and now that he thought of it, perhaps he could achieve even more?

"Hey, I'm not hungry at all but I could help you understand me better, sis! I could make you like me!" he shouted as he sprung after her when she had just reached the end of the stairs.

"STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU FREAK!" she screamed and threw at him the first thing she could lay her hands on, which happened to be an empty glass bottle of soda from the living room table. Hunter duck out of the way just in time but this dangerous turn of things didn't slow him down in any way. On the contrary, just how much Freya appeared to believe he would do it, provoked him to take an advance of it.

"It's not so bad, really! I think you'll like it!" he laughed as he ducked out of the way of a chair which then hit a mirror on the wall, causing it crash and fall on the floor. Hunter ran straight over the pieces but fortunately was wearing his sneakers.

"Don't you want to be special? Being a squib can't be something to be proud of," he mocked though it wasn't even absolutely certain yet if she was a Squib—just very likely as she'd shown no signs of magical ability though was already seven going on eight, and had very little magical blood to inherit anyway, their mother being a muggle-born and her father a muggle. But knowing she envied him, he enjoyed bringing that up so long as she blamed him for their mother abandoning them.

The chase was taken outside for a while as Freya escaped through the patio doors, but soon had to run back inside, for she felt that climbing over the fences all the way to the nearest street would've taken too long and inside there were more weapons at hand. After a couple of minutes of chase around the house, Freya screaming and hating on him, him painting both, pleasant and horrific pictures of what it would be like, and the house becoming partly a land of destruction, he managed to corner her into her own room upstairs.

"See, little girls can't outrun wolves!" he grinned up at her as she climbed high on top of her wardrobe. It wasn't very steady but safe for a moment.

Hunter jumped and tried to scratch her, knowing he could do that without causing any fatal harm. By his third transformation everyone had noticed his mind is indeed saved by the potion but he'd remained restless and yearning to hunt animals. He had broken free from his cage before the transformation was complete. Thus being a struggling puppy he had unintentionally managed to scratch his father who had been trying to put him back into the cage, but dad had not caught the curse. Hunter's claws managed to scratch only the wood of the closet door. His grin was rather mischievous but from her point of view and with the beast's fangs, it seemed just evil. She had completely forgotten that a scratch was no danger—on the contrary she thought what if it was now that the potion hadn't been taken every night? This far she'd had a brother turning into a wolf, but now it was something else familiar and brought back the night Hunter had been bitten and she'd been almost torn to pieces.

"Go away!" she said, no more screaming. She seemed to have lost strength to do so. Instead she was now in tears, her voice broken. This didn't stir any compassion in the restless wolf with a mischievous little boy's mind.

"Well, I'll consider it if you promise me something," he stated, triumph written on his face.

"I won't bite you if you promise never to tell on me again, no matter what I do," he said and Freya nodded.

"Say it out loud," Hunter required as his own policy was that if he didn't literally say it, it wasn't a promise.

"I promise!" Freya screamed as he jumped up again, trying to scratch her.

"And you'll be my slave till I leave to Hogwarts and you'll give half of your pocket money to me as long as we receive it?" he continued, his wicked grin widening at each word.

"What? Never!" she screamed, her tears turning into anger, for a moment considering this might be just her brother's unusually mean attempt to get his way—but fear of it being more serious had her try to get away again.

"I'd rather die!" she declared dramatically and leapt on to her bed and immediately stumbled off of it and out of the room. She let out another scream when Hunter followed, convinced that it wouldn't take long to break her down.

"Really?" he shouted after her and couldn't help giving out a laugh. It wasn't cold or mean but rather mischievous, but Freya wasn't listening to its tone.

"You said you're not hungry!" she interpreted his question, again in tears as she ran back downstairs.

"Well, all this running, you know…" he laughed out loud again.

"OK, I promise!" she gave in to the horror just a second before there was loud banging on the front door.

"What's going on in there!" shouted what sounded like numerous people had taken interest in a little girl who wouldn't stop screaming. Freya's first instinct was naturally to try for the door and get out even though she was sure they were muggles and showing them a werewolf might not be a good idea. As she reached the outter frront door, opened it and half flew out, Hunter had to end the battle in a dramatic way, so he leapt after her and tackled her onto the front yard by which she was screaming and kicking hysterically as he sat on her and pinned her down. From the midst of his own, hysterical laughter he tried to tell her it's OK. Within a few seconds his face and nails had turned back into a normal little boy's form. The group appeared to be just a man with two women, but it was enough. The man pulled him off of the girl and the women tried to calm her down.

"What the hell is going on?" the man holding Hunter back even though he wasn't trying to get anywhere, demanded to know, watching Freya take deep breaths, tears still running down her extremely pale cheeks.

"Are you two alone in the house?" one of the women asked, gesturing towards the front door from which no adult had come out.

"Yeh… My sister has a serious mental problem. I'm babysitting her," Hunter claimed as a joke but Freya didn't help it sounding like one.

"NO! Yes, we're alone but HE is the one with the problem! He's a stupid werewolf pup who only thinks of himself and HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" she screamed from the bottom of her angry, upset heart. The adults looked at each other for a moment, unable to speak their stunned thoughts. No one of them knew the kids. Then they looked at Hunter who just flashed his cute, innocent smile at them and gave a shrug.

"Something's really fishy about this," the man stated calmly. "I think we'd better take you two to a police station in order to solve this safely," he then said, trying to lead Hunter out of the yard's gate while his companions shut their front door.

"We're not going anywhere," Hunter stated and walked away from the man, then grabbed his sister by the hand as she seemed to be willing to go. "Freya, they're strangers," he told her seriously and then looked back at the three, "She's not ill and I was just messing with her—and this is none of your business anyway."

"Then I really want to go!" Freya said and tore her hand away from her brother's, "I don't trust you, what you come up wi next." She took a few steps away towards the gate.

"But we're not supposed to go with strangers!" Hunter insisted.
The adults did wish to respect such a smart attitude, but weren't too eager to just leave two young children in a weird situation like this.

"You don't look alike at all. Is he your brother or not?" the man looked at Freya and asked.
"Yes," she admitted, feeling that she might have gone too far.

"OK. Did your brother hurt you?"

"Yes!" she raised her voice, looking at Hunter.

"HEY," Hunter heard himself yelling. "Not really! I was just messing with you. Come on, tell them you're over-reacting!"
Freya didn't say a word anymore, just crossed her arms across her chest and looked away. Restlessly Hunter turned around in a circle in his spot—everything had been going so well but now it was all going horribly wrong. However, at the time his main worry was that he was running out of time to get out and run free.

"Hey, his name is Jon and we are Sonya and Laura. Can you tell us your names?" the women considered it best to introduce themselves in efforts to make the children feel safer.

"None of your business," Hunter snapped and glared at them. At this state of mind the scent of their blood filled his senses again. Everyone on the yard could sense he was not alright.

"Look, we're not going to take you anywhere as that would be a kidnapping, but I'm going to call the police station and have someone pick you up." the man said and headed to the phone booth that was just around the corner.
Hunter dragged Freya away from the remaining women.

"I did take the potion, so it's safe to be with me," he said, comfortable with the fact that barely half of it was true. "If I promise to take you with me, will you call this stupid number off?" he suggested, though he was planning to lock her up or something before leaving so she couldn't follow, but it anyway was too late.

"You can't prove you took the potion, so no," she stated coolly and walked away, her nose up in the air. She knew she was risking much of secrecy but all she cared about was her own safety.

"Oh, come on! Get over it and forgive me already!" Hunter shouted after her with no further reply or any intent to actually apologize. A sudden adrenalin rush had him kick the garbage can over as if it was a football, the loud noise of it alarming the women. He would've attacked everything and perhaps everyone on the yard, in frustration and anger of not getting his way, if a police car hadn't driven by which the women decided to stop in hopes to get the children safe as soon as possible.

A little later they found themselves in a questioning room of a police station, much for Hunter's relief it wasn't the one their father was working at. Jon, Sonya and Laura had been allowed to leave after explaining the situation and giving their names and contact information.

"Well, that was quite a story," a man behind a desk commented on the report, studying Hunter who had taken a seat across the desk and appeared completely normal, apart from slight restlessness. He had decided to get his stubborn, coward, intruding, over-reacting sister in one way or another. After all he had just ended into another closed space, from which it was actually a huge challenge even for him to break out. His gaze was cast at the floor at his feet, his hands lying on his lap but he appeared a little tense.

"I'm officer Riley. So, let's start with your names?" the officer stated calmly with a friendly gaze on the children. He hoped this was just a misunderstanding or something.

"Freya King," Freya answered right away, took her chair and carried it from the table side to the other side of the room.

"Umm…Freya, I need you to come back here," said Riley, his tone remaining friendly and comforting. He had never had to question children for anything in this kind of an official situation but being a father himself he had a clue of how to talk to them in general.

"No!" she snapped, glaring at her brother who grinned back at her. She sat down and crossed her arms over her chest. "And you shouldn't be that close to him either."
She was now more willing to believe that Hunter had just pulled a cruel joke on her as his transformation had apparently stopped and even faded away, but she was still suspicious.
Riley blinked couple of times and then turned to look at Hunter.

"OK. And your name, young man?"
Hunter showed no signs of intention to reply, he just stared at Freya, silently planning and plotting.

"He's Stephen," Freya stated.

"Hunter!" the boy corrected, glaring at her. "I go by my second name. No one calls me Stephen anymore."

"Alright, Hunter. What about your parents names?"
"Jacob King," Freya answered immediately, knowing his brother would never reveal it tonight and she wanted their father here as soon as possible.

"Thank you. We'll contact him soon. Would either of you please tell me in your own words, what exactly happened and where are your parents?" Riley asked, looking from one child to another. Freya was the first to speak and eagerly so, in efforts to stop Hunter from making up any stories to delay going home, believing they wouldn't make her be there alone with a werewolf.

"Daddy's at work and Hunter's a werewolf pup who tried to bite me! Mum left us because of him. Just wait and see!" she said with frightening determination and seriousness in her voice.

"Hey, fuck you, mama's whore!" Hunter snapped, his darkening eyes fixed at her. Had she been closer to him, he'd have done much worse. He didn't care much if their mother was there or not but he hated being blamed for something he hadn't chosen to do, and he didn't appreciate their family affairs spread around.

"Whoa, watch your language, boy!" said Riley, shocked, not used to hearing such words from a 10-years old.

"Did I not speak English?" Hunter asked and turned his annoyed gaze to Riley. It was obvious he was fully aware what the man had meant but just didn't care now that his father wasn't there to have heard it. If the man replied, Hunter didn't hear it because Freya had also said something that made him very happy. For the first time he realized that if he indeed managed to prolong this trip enough, he'd get to run free as a wolf. He didn't give a rat's ass if muggles found out about werewolves. Not tonight anyway. A pleased smile crept on his face. Riley had let go, deciding to focus on the crucial issues rather than a stranger kid's foul language which had been partially provoked anyway.

"You don't seriously believe in werewolves, do you," Riley stated calmly, looking at Freya, prone to dismiss it as a child's wild running imagination.

"Yes, she does—I told you, she's crazy," Hunter grinned to himself. Riley had to consider it for Freya's serious expression didn't change.

"And your parents left you together alone?" he asked frowning.

"So?" Hunter commented with a puzzled look.

"So that you are way too young to be home alone with an ill sister," said Riley.

"I'm not that young," Hunter insisted.

"You're barely ten years old. And she's seven going on eight. That's way too young, kid," the man insisted back. His friendly attitude had turned into simply serious and concerned.

"You don't know me," Hunter stated calmly.

"Then help me to. In your version of tonight, what happened?"
Hunter was silent for a moment, choosing his words.

"I was just messing with her. She's not as ill as she seems…she just…is," he then said.

"Bullying a sister the way you seem to have, isn't exactly mature in my books."

"I don't care about your books. And she's not exactly innocent either."

"Am tonight!" Freya raised her voice.

"It wasn't about just tonight, idiot!" Hunter raised his voice back at her.

"OK, OK, let's just stay calm. This is about tonight to us, so…" Riley cut off the starting argument and then gave a sigh.

"I'll have to look into this better and then I'm going to call your parents and hear their side of this situation," he said and walked to the door. He stopped and turned around.

"You two stay in your seats until I come back. Others will be keeping an eye on this room, so…" he commanded just in case.

"Yes, sir," Freya said quickly.
"Whatever," Hunter said after a beat.

Left together alone in the room, the siblings just stared at each other for a moment. Freya was thinking of the best way to tell the story to their father while Hunter was trying to come up with ways to torment her a bit more.

"You'll be grounded for the rest of your life," Freya stated happily, distracting his plans.

"You're the one who trashed the house," Hunter commented calmly.

"Because of you!" she snapped at him.

"Can you prove it? No, you can not. And you can't take a joke either," he snorted with a little smile still playing on his face. Freya was so angry she could only stick her tongue out at him.
Few moments passed by in silence and just sitting there made Hunter increasingly restless. If there had been a window in the room he might have crawled out of it into the night, but as there was none, he had to find a way to stick to his plan B. His gaze wandered around the room and what it met on the table, gave him an idea. He bit his lower lip in excitement, his gaze fixed at the gun.

"Freya, I'm sorry I made you cry," he suddenly said. "You ought to know I'd never really have this curse on you against your will…I guess you were too young to remember but I saved your life the night I got this," he spoke quietly, looking at her from the corner of his eye. In the deepest he meant every word but at the moment they sourced from an effort to lower her guard and suspicion.

"I remember," she whispered barely out loud but with his wolf hearing, he heard it perfectly well. She said no more but her tone implied she was trying to say more with just that.
Consideration fell short from Hunter's side for his own point of view was completely different.

"If you don't tell dad about anything that happened at home and agree with whatever I tell him, I'll help you avoid a possible death," he said quietly, his face very serious. Freya looked confused but nodded in agreement. Hunter leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs.

"Deputy Riley, you see," he whispered, "is a werewolf. That's why he dared to sit so close to me and tried to convince you not to believe in them. He probably wants to eat you for trying to reveal our existence. So, when I told him you're crazy, I was trying to protect you in hopes he'd have mercy on you," he spoke in hopes that Freya wouldn't remember he had labelled her ill before she ever mentioned werewolves. Freya, to whom his words made a lot of sense, believed him as she also believed a werewolf knew another, especially on a full moon night.

"What can I do?" she asked quietly, but growing nervous she missed the triumphant touch in Hunter's smile. He was comfortable enough with the situation and willing to pay back all the times Freya had told on him during the past year that he decided to take the joke to a new level.

"But he's finding out that I lied," he then said, glancing at the door. "But not to worry, sis. I have a plan. See that gun?" he continued and pointed his finger at the gun on the table.

"Yes, but daddy's told us that if we-" Freya exclaimed in distress and Hunter calmly finished her sentence while reaching for the gun.

"…see a gun, we don't touch it and we walk away." He picked the gun up after making sure no one was looking their way.

"But in my defence, this can't be loaded because they left it here like this," he said, flashing an innocent smile at his sister.

"See?" he added while walking over to Freya, opening the gun and showed her it was empty. She didn't say a word, just looked all the more nervous. Hunter put his hand into the right pocket of his jeans and searched for a moment until his fingers felt a small object. Soon he held a very real looking bullet in front of her face, far enough for he not to recognize it as one from a toy gun, which he from time to time got to borrow from his friend a couple of years ago on a condition never to shoot at anything that's alive while it's loaded but only the target boards that came with it.

"This," he said quietly, "is a silver bullet." He loaded the gun with it and held the gun out to her. "When he comes back, you shoot him."
Freya stared at him in horror and disbelief. Hunter hoped that it would work in a real gun.

"Oh, come on! He's in his human form, so it won't kill him but it will make him unconscious so we have the time to get out of here when everybody fusses about it," he said and rolled his eyes at her. Of course any bullet would kill a werewolf in human form if shot well, but Freya might believe werewolves to be more supernatural than that. And in fact, the fake bullet would only break the surface of a skin and even that only if in direct contact with it, so the deputy likely wouldn't even get unconscious. But Hunter's main goal was to "prove" that Freya was crazy.

"Oh…OK, but I don't know-" the frightened little girl agreed and took the gun with trembling hands.

"I'll show you."

A few minutes later, deputy Riley opened the door only to hear a loud bang of a gun and have a bullet fly by his ear. Hunter stared at it in disbelief.

"You aimed at his head! Wicked!" he sighed in excitement.

"I…was aiming at his shoulder," Freya said with a very faint voice, now hiding behind his brother.

"Aww, heck, you suck," Hunter gave a careless laugh but it died in a heartbeat.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" deputy Riley yelled in shock, for a moment unsure if the gun had really been loaded or not. Freya was sure of that she'd get eaten by a werewolf and Hunter just stared at the man with only slightly uncertain expression. Other policemen came to the door after realizing a gun had been fired inside the station.

"Answer me!" Riley yelled, not caring about if he frightened the children—after all they were not his and he wasn't required to be extremely patient and wise with them.

"I…told you she really believes in werewolves. She thought you were one," Hunter said quickly.

"You told me he is!" Freya exclaimed in her defence, hiding behind her brother.

"I never said such a thing. I told you there is no such thing as werewolves," Hunter went back to being unfair for the sake of his own entertainment lasting a bit longer. There had been a time when he might have tried to help at a point when Freya was really scared, but three years of full moon madness had begun to change him.

"You left a loaded gun at a child's reach?-Without the safety on?" Riley's current partner, detective Stone questioned in disbelief, over Riley's shoulder while another police was already over to Freya, taking the gun away from her.

"No! I…don't… Hell, these kids are in serious need of social service check-up! Their father didn't even answer the phone," the man tried to defend himself, but uncertain of the truth he just changed the topic to what he believed was a truth.

"Well, you're right there," Stone confirmed. "I'll go call them right now." With that the man turned to walk away. Hunter stood there paralyzed for a few seconds.

"Wait, what—what does that mean?" he called out after him, distress creeping into his voice. He rushed after the man but deputy Riley stopped him by gently grabbing him by his arm.

"It means that once your father decides to answer the phone, they will question him and you two about your home life and you two won't be going home until that point, perhaps not even after that," Stone told as he walked to his desk.

"Why's everyone over-reacting tonight?" Hunter cried out in frustration. Freya sat on the floor, unable to speak and for the moment she didn't really care what happened next. She had gone through too many emotional shocks in too short time. Hunter however, cared for her part too.

"NO! You got it all wrong!" he yelled and struggled away from Riley's grip. "He didn't answer because he's not home, he's at work!"

"Whatever the reason, you were left alone with obviously unstable sister and that's not responsible parenting," Stone said calmly and seriously as he picked up the phone. Hunter thought he died a little bit inside. If there ever was a great and loving father it was his, he had always felt and it had never been his intention to make anyone doubt it to this degree. He broke free by the distress causing him struggle harder and with more strength than he normally had due to him being a bit small for his age, and in few seconds he'd torn the phone from Stone's hand and slammed it back on its place. What he really wanted to do was yank it from the plug point and throw it at the wall as his adrenalin level was rising dangerously fast. He managed to suppress it and just held the phone tightly down. With slightly menacing expression and intense, darkened eyes he stared up at the shocked detective.

"Please," the boy said quietly, "there's no need. She's perfectly normal—very impressionable but not ill."
Stone looked down at him and didn't appear to be really listening. In fact, catching something inhumane about the boy's gaze distracted him from his words.

"Son, I need you to let go of the phone," he told him. Hunter's eyes and face softened into a childlike, a bit helpless expression as he began to realize he had no other choice but to blow his brilliant success by telling the truth and that even if he did, it might not help. This change on Hunter's angelic face had Stone doubt he had actually seen anything abnormal. The boy didn't make the slightest move to let go of the phone, so Stone turned and walked towards another desk and another phone.

"Please! I lied! It was all me, I was bored and restless and she annoyed me and I love taking advance on her impressionability and it was supposed to be a joke!" he spoke without a breath in between and there was something so passionate and genuine in his voice that it made the man stop and turn.

"That's what we thought. I personally see nothing funny in lying about a sister's mental state," he said coldly.

"Well, I—" Hunter started, sounding very annoyed.

"And you still had her shoot at someone. Are you saying shooting someone is a joke to you?" Stone cut him off.

"No. It wasn't a real bullet! It does not cause real damage on people. I can prove it, I'll find the bullet," Hunter said a bit more calmly now that they seemed to believe him.
Stone gestured around the room with his hand and Hunter's sharp eyes scanned the room first from where he was standing, then he moved to look harder.

"I just have a question," said Riley, "how come your father left two young children all alone?"

"Because I'm already ten years old, and we usually get along much better than this," Hunter answered, and realized how skipping the potion seemed to make him much more easily annoyed and even angry. Still he liked to believe it wouldn't be too serious. Then he found the bullet lying on the floor just few inches under a desk.

"See! Here, it's totally fake," he exclaimed as he picked it up and held it out to the detective.

"Things just didn't go quite the way I planned. I had a troll under my bed…" he said, glaring at Freya who was now almost completely normal after chatting about her favourite things with a nice police woman.

"A what?" Riley questioned.

"I meant my sister," Hunter sighed. Didn't they know anything?

"Can we go home now?" he then asked, restlessly trading weight from one foot to another.

"Do you really think what you've done tonight is funny?" Stone questioned in disbelief even though the bullet indeed had turned out not to be too dangerous.

"Yes, he does—he loves playing practical jokes of horror," Freya commented from her comfortable spot far from Hunter.

"That's right," Hunter confirmed cheerfully. "And this one was especially fun. I really had her going," he grinned at Freya who stuck out her tongue again.

"So this was just a sibling thing. Can I take her home now?" Hunter asked, turning to look at the detective. "Pleeeease?" he added, flashing a smile at him, clearly expecting a yes.

"Maybe it was, but a cute smile is not going to help anymore. As in no I will not let you two walk home alone at this time of the day—especially seeing to how much you obviously respect your sister…" said Stone, a hint of sarcasm in his tone as he sat down behind his desk and picked up the phone.

"Where are you calling?" Hunter asked, worry written all over his face.

"Not the social services. This doesn't seem so serious," the man said, as the situation involved only sibling wars and toy bullets - and though the boy did come off somewhat aggressive, he had also protected his sister from going with strangers. And the law did not set an age limit for leaving children home alone in itself.

"But I do need to speak with your father, and you'll stay here until he answers the phone and can come here," he told, checking the family's number again.

"But it could take hours!" Hunter lied. He knew their father was always back on time, especially on a full moon night. "It's not that late or a long way! We can make it by ourselves," he insisted, placing his hand on the phone so that it couldn't be used. He would try everything in his power to keep the strings in his own hands.

"Hunter?" the man said, uncertain if that was the name the boy was usually called, and now his voice was friendly. "Perhaps he just wouldn't come at all? Is that why you don't want me to call him?" He had previously worked at social services and knew that sometimes children defended even a bad parent.
Hunter couldn't decide what to reply—would saying yes make them not bother to call and just let them go? Would it make them call the nosey people after all? Should he make up another story? He began to look frustrated and confused. He was finding out what it meant to be lost in a web of lies. Freya was eager to help him out of it even though she enjoyed watching her brother squirm in his own mess.

"It's not that, sir," she said cheerfully. "And it won't take hours. This is just one of those days when my brother can't stand to stay indoors and I think he's just realized he'll get a spanking if you tell dad everything. Please do!" the bitter mouth encouraged the authorities.

"Shut up, moron!" Hunter snapped at her. He had not thought of any punishments nor did he worry much about such then, and he wasn't embarrased to have this information public as there was no other children around, he just knew this was not helping his chances to get out of there alone. "No, wait, go ahead and tell them everything you know. It'll only take ten seconds."

"At least I'd speak the truth," said Freya proudly, ignoring the insult.

"I'd like to see things from your point of view but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass," said Hunter in strained and overly sweet tone.

"I would ask how old are you but I know you can't count that high," she came back, aware of that she appeared the more mature one despite being younger. It usually was that way—in fact, sometimes people couldn't believe she was only going on eight.
The officers couldn't help but smile a little at this debate, some recalling their own childhood and sibling wars, although, for their age, these two were exceptionally good at insulting each other. Stone also used his chance to remove Hunter's hand and use the phone when the boy was focused on his sister.

"At least I can count. Plus, I'm cute, whereas a dead, half-eaten skunk looks better than you," he said knowing it was lame for an insult, especially as Freya was actually beautiful, but he was going somewhere with it. "Now I'm just getting hungry," he then gave a mischievous grin. "Where were we before you decided to go outside?"
As he seemed to get at Freya, who jumped to her feet and ran into another room, deputy Riley restrained him again and sat him down on a chair next to him.

"Let go of me! I need to do something!" the boy complained, struggling away.
The detective let out an amused snort.

"Well, well. I can't help but notice you have quite a temper. Just to make clear, she was talking about an appropriate and non-abusive discipline, right?" he asked, looking at the boy, slightly worried. Hunter who had already forgotten the topic, just stared at him first, totally puzzled.

"Of course, you creep," he then replied, seeming genuinely offended. "The full moon just has me moody, and I really need to be outdoors," he added, continuing his efforts to go free. He would either find his sister or the shortest way out. Stone didn't dial the number right away but frowned. The boy's answer and reacrion had seemed genuinely sincere, right down to total lack of micro-expressions - and he had heard claims that full moon did make the most sensitive people a bit crazy. But even so, as this was about children, he could not leave it to that. He then decided they'd be none the wiser until they talked to the father, and that everything would be clear once they'd met him, so he dialled the number.

"Could I lock him up until they're picked up?" Riley thought out loud when Hunter kept on fighting, clearly finally decided he'd had enough of their company. The boy's eyes widened as if those were words from Hell and tore his brain like an edgy and dull knife.

"NO," he raised his voice without quite shouting as he froze for a moment, half way down on the floor. He felt painfully strong urge to bite the man that threatened his freedom so, especially as it would also mean he'd let go of him.

"Then will you please just calm down? Please?" said Riley, trying to sound as gentle as possible. Detective Stone frowned as he watched the still tense boy climb back on the chair and sit there very still, his intense gaze fixed at the direction his sister had gone.

"Good evening, sir," Riley greeted, and introduced himself. "Do you have a 9-year old son and 7-year old daughter living with you?"

"Oh my God, my children, are they hurt?" Jacob's immediate response came when Stone was barely out with the question. He couldn't keep slight panic out of his tone as he had to watch the mess in the house.

"No, they're fine. Well, they're not hurt that is, though your son is acting hyperactive and even slightly aggressive...so I'm prone to guess he's not exactly well. He spoke something about full moon. Do you know what he may have been talking about?"

"Werewolf!" Jacob heard his daughter shout from distance.

"Oh, and your daughter appears to be obsessed with werewolves. I think they both are."
Jacob remained silent for a short moment, trying to remain calm. This sounded bad. Really, really bad, even though nowhere near as bad if his children had been hurt—but then it didn't sound to be too far from getting to that point. The clock on the wall told it was only a little over an hour till the transformation usually started. Hunter being aggressive sounded alarming as it wasn't typical of him, but then not completely unseen either. It was hard to judge what it was about without seeing him.

"Not obsessed. They just like them too much. Well, Hunter does. And it does not help that he is a bit sensitive to the moon—sleeping problems around the full moon. What exactly have they done? And are they under arrest or something?" he then asked just before the silence prolonged to a questionable length.

"Or something. It's a longish story and we'd really need you to come down here to settle this…We can give him a mild depressant medicine? Fifteen minutes? Good…" As the detective gave their location, Hunter no more listened. He too felt the last hour nearing.

"You know what crossed my mind," said Riley when his partner hung up the phone and the two watched as Hunter began pacing restlessly around the room, plotting an escape plan. He was pretty sure that if he just suddenly tried to make it to the door, they would catch him. They were too aware of his main interest and had their own—partially correct—theories why it was.

"I recall reading about cases of lycantrophy in history—very rare condition but possible. I mean, the kind wherein a normal human being genuinely thinks he or she is a wolf and goes around eating people, sometimes dressed up in a skin of a wolf. But of course there is no way this kid has anything to do with it. He hasn't done anything wolf-like and he even admitted there are no such things as werewolves. All this talk about them just reminded me of it as it's said it might be the origin of the werewolf myths," Riley spoke half in his thoughts. "What did the father say?"
As fascinating as detective Stone found his partner's words, he thought it best not to bring it up to the father, as it was highly over-analytic and likely an insult.

"He said the boy just likes werewolves too much and has sleeping problems around full moon. That actually does explain almost everything—even the aggressive behaviour. Too little sleep and annoyed with a little sister… Otherwise he appears a typical little boy to me, and he did say they usually get along much better than this. I think they were left safe enough."
The officers' theories held Hunter's human mind's interest for a good while and he forgot to plan a way out. He couldn't help but laugh out loud at how close Riley came to the truth and how right his father was, yet—Hunter hoped—remained unaware just how much he liked werewolves. He agreed to take a stronger cut-half medicine pill after a moment of hesitation.

Fifteen minutes later when the front door had opened five times—Hunter had counted all the chances to run that he had passed—Jacob finally arrived. He was still wearing his uniform from the day at work and appeared relatively calm as on the way he had formed sure enough plan to get his children safe and in time, but uncertainty of what had happened still bothered him as with Hunter, it could be any number of things and just about anything.

"Daddy!" Freya screamed in utter joy and ran to hug him as he walked through the entrance hall before Jacob could tear himself back to the current moment.

"Hey, sweetheart, you OK?" Jacob asked, crouching down to be closer to the girl's eye level and held her gently in front of him. Freya just nodded and her genuine smile confirmed she was alright.

"What happened at home? Short answer, please, we don't have much time," he said.
For a few seconds Freya remained silent, thinking back to the horribly stressing night she'd gone through.

"I…it was mostly I, but it was all self-defence. Hunter was sneaking out and wouldn't listen to me telling him he can't, then I wanted to go with him but then he wouldn't go and he said he'd forgotten to take the potion tonight and started to chase me and he said he would make me like him," she explained, looking miserable and barely taking a breath as she spoke and she spoke fast. Jacob had to listen really hard to get the most essential points "He didn't have time to hurt me and I think he was joking but he's been really mean tonight. You know how he's normally not so mean and violent. I don't even remember ever seeing him sad. Daddy, I'm really scared."

For the first time ever, Jacob hoped he had misunderstood—horribly misunderstood what his child was telling him. He had seen his son sad, but barely ever this mean or violent. The boy was usually easy-going and positive and settled scores in a rather mischievous, childlike manner. And even though the boy was a handful, without knowing, it would be impossible to tell he had a wolf inside him—except tonight.

"Don't be, no one's going to harm you now. I promise," Jacob said, managing to sound comforting through his own rising fear. Hunter had always, always taken the potion before apart from the first full moon when they'd found out the truth too late for the potion to take effect. Even if his uncertainty showed in his eyes, Freya did relax.

"Stay right here. Don't leave this hall. I'll be right there in the other room," he then said and gently kissed her forehead, got up and entered detective Stone's office where Riley and Stone were discussing their most recent crime case and Hunter seemed to be lying half asleep on a small couch. Jacob's relatively calm and very much respect stirring being and not quite shoulder length, clean dark brown hair around his friendly face earned him a lot of trust points but as he didn't look alike with either of the children, he had to verify his identity.

Another ten long minutes passed and he found it more and more a challenge to keep himself together, not only because the hour was nearing but he was completely frustrated with his children not being able to be a couple of hours together alone when he had to return to workplace. He'd been able to arranege himself only day shifts, but tonight he'd been called back later. Had it seemed necessary, he'd used magic to get out of it in time to be home before midnight. So he gladly took into consideration the advice of joining a group for single parents though of course wouldn't join that exactly but if there was similar for wizards and witches. As he watched his son remaining calm on the sofa, he thought he might benefit more of something for parents of spirited children.

The police did not do anything more, as the discussion itself and a phone call to the family's neighbour confirmed that the children had been left alone safely enough and only for a couple of hours. And the man appeared very much normal, responsible adult and parent both in attitudes and appearence, in addition to the boy's earlier reaction to the discipline question that had not been alarming at all and how this man's crime record was clean. Any suspicion of neglect was dismissed and there was no call for suspicion of any kind of abuse. Also, the girl was a shining proof that he was a good father, the boy just apparently had a difficult personality.

"Alright, thank you for being so patient with him," Jacob said, wondering how much efforts it must have taken from them seeing to that they did not know the boy at all. Even though the father was sometimes at the end of his rope, he'd never wished for a different son. For although the boy undeniably had a deeply rooted stubborn and bratty nature that truly challenged patience, at his best behaviour he was rather sweet and loveable and usually respectful to authorities. And so far there had been no behaviour that he had not managed to adjust by normative home discipline and positive reinforcement. The only thing that made Jacob desperate about his son, was the wolf and its likely affects on the child in a long run.

"Will you do me another huge favour? Take my daughter to this address—it's an old friend of mine and his family and they know she might be coming, as well as why," he said, giving detective Stone a small piece of paper as he got up off his chair. He walked over to Hunter and picked him up, while the boy seeming still half asleep wrapped his arms around his neck. A ten year old would otherwise be getting too big to be carried like this but Hunter was small for his age - more the size of a 7-year old - so it was not too much a challenge. First the boy had been only one year behind his peers in growth but since the wolf infection causing monthly transformations, his growth had slowed down a lot more. They weren't worried though as he still kept growing, and Jacob was sure Hunter would have quite a growth spurt during his teenage years. Assuming the scamp lived that long...

"I want to see that my son's okay before we go back to normal."
The detective nodded in agreement, saying he'd take the girl there himself. Freya was sitting in a corner chair, reading an issue of Donald Duck when they walked into the hall.

"Honey, you go with detective Stone. He'll take you to the Potters where you'll stay overnight. They know you're coming," Jacob said immediately as he carried Hunter past her and Freya was about to follow.

"The one's who are related to-?" Freya started, sounding excited and making Jacob genuinely smile for a blessed moment.
"No, they're still not related to Harry."

"One day I'm going to prove you're wrong!" she declared.

"You do that. But we need to go now," Jacob smiled at her, glad that she'd have other things to think about than this night.

"Who's Harry?" depury Riley asked as they lead the girl back to the office for a moment.

"A celebrity I'm going to marry," she told eagerly. Jacob didn't worry about the direction of the discussion as the officers would likely take whatever she'd say as a child's imagination, especially after the werewolf stories—and Freya was still at the age when she was allowed to genuinely believe in just about anything. He had also confirmed that for the past year the siblings had some troubles in their relationship. This lead his thoughts back to more critical issues.

"Hunter, you didn't take the pill, did you?" he stated seriously as they reached the front yard and he put the boy down on the ground but didn't let go of his arms.

"How'd you know?" Hunter asked genuinely puzzled as he indeed stood on his own feet and looked up at his father.

"Because I know you. And you weren't relaxed enough. Do you have any idea what time it is?" said Jacob and watched the boy's expression go sour—clearly he had blown another plan to run away.

"I can feel it," the boy whispered.

"Another question—an don't lie because it's very, very important," Jacob said, looking at Hunter who was eagerly staring at the darkness down the street. Of course normally and most of the time he could easily tell if a person was lying, but for some reason during a full moon week his son had become quite good at hiding the truth.

"Have you or have you not taken the right amount of Wolfsbane Potion every single night for the past seven nights, and without adding anything to it?"
A moment of silence felt like forever. Jacob had overseen him take it for a long, long time as it apparently tasted disgusting and this was a young child supposed to get it down, not to mention the boy's interest in werewolves. But for years everything had went so smoothly he had begun to trust the boy to take it alone and hoped he's got used to the taste, somehow.

"I…may have forgotten it last night…" Hunter confessed so quietly Jacob would not have heard if he hadn't been specifically listening. And it was not what he wanted to hear in so many ways. Still holding on to the boy's arm, he gently but firmly grabbed his chin and forced him to look back at him, taking an eye contact.

"I know how good your memory is. And seven times a month for three years, then all the sudden you forget?"
Hunter couldn't bring himself to tell the exact truth out loud but his eyes did say he had indeed 'forgotten on purpose'.

"But it was just one night!" he finally exclaimed in his defence as Jacob not so gently turned him around and pushed him towards the parking lot.

"So you have not been listening at all when I've told you that every night is crucial? Or even worse, if you have been listening and still we're here."
Hunter thought it best not to answer that one. Jacob was already so painfully aware of the entity of the situation that for a split second he considered putting the brat over his knee right there and then, but decided against it. He loved the boy too much to do that, and causing any sort of physical pain for any purpose to the boy tonight might prove to be the worst idea ever, with violence freely storming inside him in a form of an untamed wolf. Besides he wanted to be absolutely sure of how much of this was an attitude problem and how much something out of the boy's control. Only then he could choose a fair treatment.

"Get in the car," he just commanded and Hunter did as told even though the fresh air and open streets were calling louder than at any point before.

"Dad, you can't lock me up tonight, I'll die if you do!" the boy protested from the backseat, genuinely worried. Jacob opened the front door of the car and sat on the driver's seat.

"No, you won't. I'll see to that it sleeps peacefully till morning," he said, managing to find quite comforting tone, and slammed the door shut.

"Then, then why lock me up?" Hunter insisted, spark of hope in his voice, having Jacob turn around on the seat with a strained smile on his face.

"Because, my dear, what will become of you in a half an hour is not something I know as well as I do you—and after ten whole years even you, sometimes, somehow manage to surprise me." He turned around and started the car. Hunter might have smiled with glee (as he loved upsetting people and surprise them in both good and bad) but he was more interested in getting away, and the lack of possibility to do so, killed the smile. On the way home the boy started fingering the lock of the backdoor of his side, deep in thoughts.

"Oh, and just so you know," Jacob said without taking his eyes off the road, "you know I don't usually use magic for discipline but if you do try to open any door of this car before I say you can, I will bind you with some sort of charm."

Fifteen minutes later, without a single escape attempt, they arrived at their front yard. Hunter had barely stepped out of the car when Jacob took a firm hold of his arm and walked him quickly inside, away from the direct moonlight—just in case.

"There's got to be another way!" Hunter protested, trying to slow him down by holding on to anything that didn't move, which resulted in Jacob just carrying him into the basement.

"Even if there was, there would be no time to come up with one," he told the struggling child. Fifteen minutes was the most he knew they had. Down in the basement, he put the boy down on the floor, still holding on to him. Hunter appeared extremely upset, breathing fast and heavy with teary eyes—for complex reasons, Jacob believed. And how bad would it get when his mind was changed into an animal's from the little boy's it was now? Even for that it was so much worse than usually, when Hunter would play nice and stay in without any significant psychological issues to do so—or so it seemed. Something had been changing his attitude.

"Look, son, what could happen to you out there is much, much worse than anything that could ever happen in here," he said calmly, and gently wiped away one of the tears that found its way out down the boy's cheek. Jacob couldn't decide which was more unthinkable; Hunter getting killed or killing a person and the boy having to live with it for the rest of his life? Gently he took the boy's face into his hands and turned it towards himself, taking an eye contact.

"I love you, and I don't want to lose you, ever. Nor for you to do something that will completely destroy the rest of your life," he said warmly, having Hunter stop crying and even relax for a moment.

"It'll be alright. Get in," Jacob whispered, gently kissed his son's brow and pushed him towards the caged area. It had always been more of another little boy's room than a cage—apart from random sticks, bones and other toys for him to chew on or rip apart in the wolf form if he got frustrated without a chance to hunt. Otherwise he'd always be able to entertain himself in numerous ways with his retained human intelligence. In fact, the room was so cosy that it was not recognizable as part of a basement—it even had a wood floor. Just the wire-netting cage walls revealed it was not a regular room. Although only on a full moon night by a spell, and all other times they were normal wooden walls. He'd built normal walls but Hunter wished for something werewolf-like, plus he himself wanted such walls through which he could see the boy in his wolf form, in order to stop or help should something ever go somehow wrong. So he'd cast the spell on the walls each full moon night and lifterd it in the morning. Tonight though, he would not make regular visits down there—just to be safe.

"See the pile of raw beef on the table," he said as he locked the door. "Some of them are seasoned with mild amount of sleeping drug. You ought to sleep peacefully some eight hoors. I'll let you out around eight in the morning."

Deep in his thoughts Jacob climbed up the stairs and locked the cellar door. His worry about the boy's future increased tonight more than ever, making him again think of the only curing possibility they'd had no chance to try, the one he wouldn't even really want to be tried, and wasn't too convinced Hunter would either—the boy was too fond of his curse. Would it work if the wolf that bit the boy was killed? The problem was that even if they ever found out the identity of the person, it would have to be Hunter himself and both in their human forms. But remaining the way things were now, did not seem promising either. He worried for the boy's sanity whatever the future. There was something eerie about the silence in the house. Or maybe it was just the stress slowly letting go now that both of the children were safe, yet with a full-blown werewolf soon in his cellar he could not feel completely at peace.

Down in his underground room Hunter sat on his bed, in an utter emotional mess. His gaze moved from the clock on the table to the beef beside it and to the small window on the other side of the cellar. He got up, walked over to the doorway and switched the light off, leaving the only light on the cellar level be from the moon. It barely reached the entrance of the room doorway. The boy stared at it as if it was Heaven opened up in front of him. Or perhaps he should just believe and eat the beef? It might even make the transformation less painful. There was no way to break out by force anyway—magic took care of that. But then again, it wouldn't be the first time he'd open a lock without keys or magic. A skill his father wasn't aware of.

The only things holding him back was that he didn't want to disappoint his father any more than he already had, and knowing he was enough in trouble already as it was. But if it was so, would he want it to be for nothing (from his own point of view anyway?) And didn't he say eight in the morning? The transformation back usually happened at sun's first light…he might have time to sneak back here…and what dad didn't know could not hurt either of them. Yes…yes, it was a good plan…he needed it…this one, real full moon…his intense gaze found the clock hitting ten to midnight. His blood began to run faster and faster. Perhaps he'd be different? What did dad know anyway? Books? Movies? Other werewolves? Big deal—none of them knew how he personally felt inside—but then neither did he about them. He personally knew no one like him and wasn't interested in getting to know werewolves who hated something he found fascinating. So chances were dad did know much more of werewolves than he did. But the more he pondered, the more he, somehow, managed to convince himself that he was different. He'd make it through the night without killing anyone.

The minutes seemed to fly. Frantic, he turned the room around in search for anything sharp and metal to use while he still had hands. The clock's ticking sounded as if it was speeding up, and he couldn't help but growl at it, but mercilessly the clock's hands pointed at five to midnight. Finally he spotted some pins and a bent nail which in lack of an actually made tension wench, if tried hard enouigh, might help him out. Still retaining human intelligence, he leapt to the doorway and started to pick the lock, able to focus on it quite well for the pain was yet to kick in. He had full-blown fangs when he broke free from the cage and stumbled on the moonlit floor. His triumphant chuckle came out as bark-like sounds, but he soon fell silent as he realized again that there was still one more lock between him and the world.

He'd read some wolves were intelligent enough to open a gate after trying long enough, but a window was probably too challenging mechanism. He couldn't take the risk, so regardless of the growing pain, he hurried to the window, again attacking its lock and trying to turn its handle. The lock snapped and the window opened very little. Before he could lift it open, the direct moonlight and midnight hit hard. He had to strip off his t-shirt and shoes and soon enough all clothes, in order to be able to even breathe in the heat burning from deeper inside that he thought could even exist. It began grow him a black fur coat, black tail, pointy ears, twist and shape his face, back and limbs slowly but certainly until he was no more able to stand on two feet. Soon the child's cries of pain turned into a howl until there was nothing humane about it.

For a while it just laid there growling to itself, feeling trapped. Then its nostrils caught the very faint breeze coming from beneath the gaskets of the window, making the window its only interest even though it also caught the scent of raw meet and blood from the other room. Softly it pawed over to the window, rose to its hind legs, leaning its forepaws to the stone wall just next to the window, and sniffed around its edges. It pushed its nozzle to where the breeze was the strongest and managed to get the window slightly more open, encouraging it to push more into it.

Upstairs, Jacob who had heard the transformation complete, hoping he would soon find a way to ease that pain for the boy, tried to focus on things he could help, in order to keep himself together. Regardless of the late hour, he called to check up on Freya, who appeared to be just fine and even worried about her brother, which gave Jacob hope that the siblings hadn't completely fallen apart yet. After managing to convince the girl that all was well, he called to work in hopes to take a couple of days off on account of his 'ill child' and not being able to find a babysitter on short notice. That wasn't too far from the truth, and this was a quite peaceful town and his station was large. There was nearly always some other sergeant who was willing to do an extra shift on short notice. He decided he'd arrange it even if it meant he'd have to work on Christmas Day or something. Now he just wanted to watch the boy closely to make sure he'd turn out okay after his first genuine full moon since the beginning. In the morning he'd call the kids' school and report the boy had fallen ill. As well as take back the overtime he did tonight, and stop by in the afternoon to see that his couple of days leave would go well for everyone. His last call was to Carrie, the mother—as apparently their plan had not gone as they'd hoped it would. She was supposed to keep in contact but hadn't, Freya turned out not have been too young to remember her and Hunter apparently cared enough after all. They needed to settle this together, and soon.

The wolf had managed to get himself half out, but the ground was soft and a little steep on the spot, making it harder for an animal to crawl or jump out of a small window. It kept trying and clawing at the ground, determined to go free, driven by the moon, the wind and the bloodlust provoked by a person passing by on foot. No one noticed nor would they have recognized a black wolf in the night on the ground level, as the sounds it made might as well have been a dog. After a minute or so, the ground had given in enough for it to have better chance to pull itself up, with a little help from its powerful hind legs. Once out, it shook the dirt off of its fur coat and let out a happy and hungry howl. To human ear it sounded nothing but hungry and unnatural.

Jacob who had not yet changed into free time clothing but relaxed in the kitchen at a cup of tea, froze there for a moment hoping beyond hope that he'd just become paranoid—because that was definitely not the neighbour's dog nor even a regular wolf (as if there was anywhere outside zoos anyway) and it most definitely did not come from the cellar. Within seconds he forced himself to check the situation. He grabbed his wand from the kitchen desk and hurried to the window just in time to see something black that looked like a medium-sized dog, disappear into the night. The wooden fence was too high for it to leap over but it had figured out that the fence at the back was nothing but hedges and quite easy to run through for a creature that had a thick fur coat for protection.

Tonight more than ever magical blood proved to be such a blessing for it lessened the risks of wolf hunt a great deal and it took only a few seconds to cast a charm that revealed he indeed was all alone in the house. His mind was numb with fear as he ran out of the patio doors and into their rear yard. His heart was shaken so that he could feel it only as vibration-it might have even skipped some beats. There were no signs of any life on the neighbours' yards, apart from the wolf. He stood there taking a few deep breathes as this was no time for any heart-attack, especially at the age of thirty-eight. Finally able of rational thinking, he followed the wolf by magically shrinking the high hedge fence in front of him and returning it to the original size immediately after crossing over to the neighbour's yard. By the time he reached it, the wolf was gone. This neighbour, unfortunately, had left their garage's doors open and thus offering the wolf a clear path to a street.

The wolf was running faster and faster, driven by hunger, the endless seeming space and curiosity. All around it was so many scents, trees, bushes and strange, large boxes from which it sensed a faint scent of blood. It didn't know where to turn or what to do first as at sight there was nothing to hunt. It felt old yet new-born. Its only memories were from what seemed like long ago but they were nothing like this. Soon it was running wild like the pup it was, in circles on the soft lawn of a neighbour's front yard and letting out bark-like sounds, and then couple of times around a small fountain which was still on, pouring water into itself.

It jumped into the water and splashed around, loving the feel of nature. It had no earlier experience of it but its instincts drew it closer and closer to it. It looked down and having forgotten the sight from much smaller amount of water long ago, it stuck its nozzle underwater, very quickly in order to catch the other wolf that seemed to be in there. Resulting in it breathing underwater and drawing out of it immediately, loudly trying to sneeze the water out of its nostrils. It growled at its reflection and leapt out of the water to sniff around for food or new amusement.

The wold had already disappeared when Jacob reached the street, so he cast a tracking spell which made any steps taken on it during the last hour, glow in red in his own eyes—the most fresh being the paw prints of a running wolf. With each step he feared seeing something else red on the ground, or even worse, but there was just paw and claw prints in the dirt. Hunter was still so young and even small for his age, that the wolf was still in its puppy size, hardly two feet in height. So it was unlikely it would manage to tear apaert anyone very quickly, but it could easily bite someone fatally...and any bite would be fatal in a supernatural way. He soon noticed there was no howling either. Was that a good or a bad thing? It could mean anything. As little as he liked the sound of a werewolf's howl he wished really hard that he'd hear it just to know it was alive. Even though the odds of him being dead were much lower than the wolf biting someone, Jacob couldn't help but fear the first mentioned more.

First the wolf just ran on the streets now that it finally could, as fast as it could, and therefore didn't care about the people on the way. Eventually it slowed down to a fast-paced walking, and its snout almost touching the ground it sniffed its way away from the residental area. At such young age it didn't feel any pull to sexual energy, but the sounds and scents pulled it towards the town center. It was packed with food on late Thursday night.
Getting closer, it was frightened out of its wits by large, roaring and moving objects which it hadn't come across on the way. Soon it figured they were moving along only a certain area, so it stuck to the sides. But the cars, widening streets, crossroads and growing amount of people made it more and more nervous and aggressive by the moment. The ecstasy of freedom was drowned by the strange surroundings that felt somewhat threatening. It ran around in panic here and there, making angry sounds, snapping its jaws at people who it felt walked too close by, but soon people learned to avoid it.

It desperately searched for a more quiet area, until it ran into a German Shephard which was tied to a broken street lamp. The animals stood there for a moment, a few meters apart and growling at each other. The dog hesitated for a moment as it sensed this was not another dog. The wolf measured up the enemy, for it was not fully grown itself and had never fought against anything. The dog was the average size of its breed, thus a few centimetes taller and a little bit more muscular - and it might also be an experienced fighter. But it was significantly in the undertow, its chances of attacking were limited, the wolf sensed while its own natural fighting insticts were rising. Bloodlust, natural aggression grown even stronger by the journey's frights, and hunger drove it at the dog. It went for the dog's throat but even in its restrained position the dog managed to avoid the teeth and once the wolf's back was turned for a split moment, the dog jumped on it, sinking its teeth into the wolf's neck. Both animals collapsed on the ground, determined to tear each other to pieces, completely unaware that someone was watching them from the darkness.

For a short while the street was filled with mindless screams of two canines, until the battle mooved over the church's yard right next to them. After giving and receiving countless painful bites but nothing long-lasting, the dog managed to sink its powerful jaws into the wolf's upper foreleg, tearing the flesh. The pain blinded it for a moment but its instinct had it attack the dog's head and sink its teeth into the dog's nozzle, deep into it. The dog let go of the leg and tried to pull away, howling in pain and getting tangled in its leash after the wolf had managed to tear part of the nozzle completely off. Though bleeding and limping it found strength to jump on the distracted dog and push it onto the ground. In a matter of seconds it sunk its teeth deep into the dog's throat and ripped it open. Disgusting sound of flesh torn and bone cracking increased its hunger while blood splatterd on the street. It did not register the pain in its leg as it kept tearing the dog into pieces—its stomach, its guts, its limbs… Finally the wolf calmed down to just feeding on its flesh. It growled hungrily and of pleasure as it dug its nozzle into the dog's carcass and tore the flesh out of it. But it had not abandoned guard for it reacted immediately when it heard steps further away on the church yard . It pulled away from its prey, nozzle and partially its face covered in blood. Its intense stare fixed at the darkness, every muscle of its body strained, to attack whatever would step out of the shadows.

Crouching low, it slowly approached the church. Its mouth remained slightly open for a new attack, blood and slobber dripping from its red teeth. There was a gunshot and a flash of silver, a bullet missing the wolf's head by an inch. The sudden danger had it let out scared and aggressive howl and stumble for cover behind a statue of an angel, but it turned around to watch the situation. Its gaze met a middle-aged man who pointed a shotgun at it, crouching between the church wall and a tree. The wolf's growl grew increasingly enraged, its bloody teeth completely bared.

Suddenly the hunter flew violently and hard back against the church's brick wall and lost his grip on his gun, but he had no idea what had hit him - except that it certainly wasn't the wolf.

"Shoot at it again and I will kill you," another man's voice came from nearby the wolf. The tone of it was dripping with hatred. The lifted his gaze up to a somewhat younger man who appeared to be a police officer and now pointing something at him. He couldn't see clearly in the darkness after the blow but it certainly wasn't a gun, so the hunter went for his gun on the ground...But it wasn't there.

"I wouldn't stand so near it if I were you. It's not a regular wolf and it just got a taste of blood for tonight," the hunter said and got to his feet, his gaze frantically searching for his gun. The wolf had turned its attention to Jacob, and seemed ready to attack him but didn't immediately as it registered the man holding something it didn't recognize but had just seen doing something violent to the other human.

"I'm fully aware of what it is. More than you'll ever be," Jacob said, slowly moving closer to the hunter and further away from the wolf, his gaze fixed at the animal. The hunter noticed him pointing a small, wooden stick at the wolf. Jacob was aware that the man might have more guns so he kept an eye on him, to avoid getting shot. He didn't want to attack the wolf immediately, fearing he'd use a spell too powerfully and harm it.

"The dog—was it—?" Jacob began, feeling sorry for the poor animal for a split second, but worry for his own and his child's life overcame it immediately. He thanked God the wolf had slowed down on the houses' yards and the fight with the dog too bying him time to track it down here in time.

"A sacrifice for my wolf trap. Yes. How do you think a stick like that is going to help when it decides to get you?" the man laughed. His gaze followed the wolf as it limped out from the shelter of the statue, cautiously following Jacob, trying to keep an eye on both humans. It was constantly growling. Its wound had already completely healed on the surface but it still felt the pain. Just when the wolf was about to leap at Jacob, a flash of red light sent it lifelessly to the ground. A nonverbal, strong stunning spell had made it unconscious. He had reached the hunter and now turned to look at him.

"You wanted the honour of killing it yourself?" the hunter asked as he wasn't exactly sure of what had just happened except that maybe that stick had something to do with the blow he'd has a moment ago. "If not, why are you protecting a werewolf? And will you please stop pointing that at me," the hunter said as Jacob had pointed the wand at him again, "I've seemed to lost my gun anyway."

"You may have more, or a knife," Jacob said. "You talk about honour," he continued. "What exactly is honourable about killing werewolves?"

"So you did not kill it," the man said, a touch of hope in his tone, staring at the wolf lying on the ground as if it had just fell asleep straight from four paws. Then he spotted his gun lying where this police officer had first stood. He had absolutely no idea how it could be all the way there but for the moment all he cared about was getting it back.

"Freeze!" Jacob commanded as he noticed the man eagerly eyeing the shotgun, and so the man did not move.

"Well, it's like an extreme sports…plus, it saves lives," the hunter then answered, making it clear the first mentioned aspect was much more important to him personally. Jacob decided to keep holding him at wand-point as this low-moral person just might have more weapons hidden on him.

"It does not bother you that they're wolves only for a few hours in a month and persons for the rest of it?" Jacob asked, clearly growing more angry and upset, trying to not think of the wolf next to them as his own son or else he might just cast the wrong curse on this man.

"Not really. They all go bad sooner or later," the hunter answered as calmly as he could with the strange weapon to his head.

"That sounds like an unfair generalization," stated Jacob, desperately pondering the wisest thing to do as this person apparently was a muggle.

"No, especially this one—you see it's awfully small for a werewolf, so it might even be a child," the hunter stated, gesturing at the wolf. Jacob forced himself to think of anything else but his boy and lowered the wand while keeping his truncheon at hand—he didn't wish to become a murderer himself. If he ever killed a man, it would have to be either self-defence or protecting someone's life. This would not be any of those as long as the hunter had empty hands.

"Exactly," Jacob said coldly and raised his wand again.
"What is that thing?" the hunter asked staring right at it. Jacob smiled uninterpretably at the muggle who knew about werewolves but did not believe in magic even to the extent of not recognizing a wand after seen one used.

"Never mind," Jacob stated and another flash of light hit the hunter, making him dizzy and groggy for a moment. Before he could completely come out of it, Jacob was already leading him out from the church yard.

"Sir, you'd better go home as soon as possible. A dangerous criminal is loose around here," he told the man, who thanked the officer and agreed, partially also for he had no idea how he'd ended up on a church yard. Jacob stared after him until the man disappeared from sight. He wasn't a professional in the obliviation charm but usually he had succesfully repressed a fresh memory from a person's mind, in this case that the man had ever seen him or Hunter's wolf form and the entire situation. Of course there were details about the night reaching too far back for him to obliviate such as the dog and the gun, and he wasn't good enough in Legilimency to alter anyone's memories. But there could be many natural reasons for the dog's disappearence, and as for the gun being lost...well, a muggle's mind would come up with a reasonable explanation. In addition to immoral, hunting werewolves was illegal but he could not help other werewolves now. Naturally he first and foremost took care of his own child's safety and thus could not report this hunter to the Ministry of Magic.

Letting out a deep, anguished sigh he walked over to the wolf and stared down at it for a while. His thoughts wandered to the victim and stress about what to do with the sad, hurt remains of the dog crept over him. What would they start to look for and how long if he just left them there? The carcass was half eaten, so the first option would naturally be a wild animal. His only consolation was that Hunter had not got a chance to kill a human being, because then the authorities would, with no record of wild animals loose, sooner or later extent the possibilities to a disturbed man. He decided not to risk it, so he, as sickening as looking at the dog's remains was, walked over to it. With his feet he moved the pieces as aside as he could and turned them invisible, planning to come back later and bury them. Then, walking back over to the wolf, he thought of the best way to take it home. It weighted around the same as the boy, and the way was long, so he'd have to try and Disapparate with it. Gently and cautiously he then picked it up into his arms. Even though he was tall and strong, Disappareting with a big animal in his arms was a challenge but he had to try.

He succesfully apparated at his own rear yard, carried the wolf into the house and into the cellar. He laid it down on the floor of Hunter's cellar room and thought of his next move for a moment. He fetched paper and water from upstairs and cleaned its nozzle and face. After he set the raw beef on the floor very near the wolf, he stepped out to lock the door.

"I hope you're still hungry enough," he whispered as he pointed his wand at the wolf, nonverbally lifting the charm, having the wolf regain consciousness. He walked to the window and closed it as the wolf slowly got up on four paws, looking puzzled and frustrated. Just a moment ago it had been free and about to get a nice feast and now it was in a small room with just a few pieces of meet under its nose. Fortunately, the food was more tempting than freedom, so soon enough it dug into the beef. It remarked Jacob who walked past the walls, both of them kept an eye on each other, but the wolf focused on finishing the beef before even intending to go after the human. By the time it would've liked to, Jacob was already gone and even the cellar door locked. Insanity for being locked up started to take over the wolf but just before it got unbearable, the sleeping drug started to kick in. The wolf could only pace restlessly around the room, increasingly slow and yawning every now and then, until it curled up into the far corner behind the bed and fell asleep.

"How are you feeling?" Jacob asked as he stepped down the basement stairs and spotted Hunter sitting on the bed, tying his shoelaces, wearing blue jeans and no shirt.

"Rested an confused, but otherwise fine," Hunter answered quietly, not looking up. Jacob snorted quietly as he opened the locked door.

"I mean, whose blood is in my mouth?" the boy asked, finally looking up at his father and it was clear that he wouldn't try to lie his way out of trouble anymore and that he was genuinely worried about the answer.

"It was a dog. I buried it this morning. It got you too," Jacob answered calmly and gestured towards the boy's upper left arm as he walked over to the bed.

"You buried just the dog, right?" Hunter asked sounding a bit uncertain as he looked at the pale scar on his arm. He'd wondered why his arm ached a liitle. Jacob crouched down beside the bed to examn the arm just in case, even though never had the boy's wounds received and healed in the wolf form caused any trouble later.

"Right, no humans—but it was not just a dog. Hunter, an animal life is not worthless, and even if nothing had happened, it would not make your stunt any less serious and stupid than it is now or might have been." Jacob spoke, his tone was calm but everything about it told that the discussion was far from over. "Get upstairs, clean up and go to your room," he added, taking a short eye contact and gestured with his hand towards the stairs.
Hunter grabbed a white Mickey Mouse t-shirt from the bed and half ran upstairs. He wanted the blood out of his mouth as soon as possible—anything else was a secondary matter.

Half an hour later Hunter was sitting in his room at his study table, leaning his right elbow on it and his face on his palm. He paged through a book about mythical creatures. He was meaning to find a way to stay in between the wolf and himself, instead of having the mind of just one or the other. He believed that in a world with magic, it must be possible. But he found it impossible to concentrate on reading as his mind wandered constantly back to the night and if he had bitten anybody.

"When I was burying the dog," Jacob said from the doorway as he opened the door and stepped in, "I was thinking back on everything I'd learned about last night and it was so utterly unpleasant and partially unthinkable that for a while I just wanted to forget about it, saying the end's well, all's well."
"Sounds great to me," Hunter commented eagerly without looking up.

"I bet, but that's not the way it is now," Jacob stated as he walked over to him and closed the book on the table. He leaned on the table with his right hand, the other on his waste and kept his thoughtful look down at his son for a moment of silence, Hunter kept his at the book. Neither of them knew where to start.

"Hunter, you lied to me—and deliberately disobeyed me—so that you could knowingly risk your own and innocent people's lives," Jacob finally started and he didn't have to say it, the disappointment was all over his tone, making Hunter look extremely miserable.

"I meant to come back before the transformation," the boy said quietly. "Dad, I swear I did!" he added louder as he lifted his sorry-puppy-dog eyes at his father. He couldn't interpret from the man's expression if he believed it or not for Jacob himself couldn't decide.

"Even if, that is hardly the point," Jacob then stated and gave a deep sigh. "What I am proud of though is that you would not have your sister come with you, didn't go or let her go with strangers and confessed your lie before the situation got completely out of hands," he then said, again so genuinely that it lifted Hunter's spirit a little but he could not smile. The look in his eyes grew calmer as he now realized he hadn't been complete disappointment after all.

"But, those and the fact you didn't take the pill at the station, also prove that you were—up till midnight—fully capable of making your own choices. And unfortunately, son, most of them were horribly irresponsible," Jacob continued as he walked over to Hunter's bed and sat on its edge. Hunter cast his eyes down to his hands on his lap and tried to think of a way to justify at least some of the crap he'd pulled.

"You can be so complicated that sometimes I really don't know what to do with you," Jacob said and studied his son's being for a while. He knew the boy had a kind heart in the deepest but yet—apparently—he was these days capable of remarkable cruelty. Usually, though not without exceptions, the boy's pranks were quite harmless and really funny, even the horror ones. But this was all new level even for those that had crossed the line of good taste. Was he losing his child or was this just some phase he could help with passing quicker?

"I know I ask this every now and then, but I need to ask it again. If it has changed since the last time, please let me know, because I do love you," he then said. Hunter lifted his gaze up to him, curious and puzzled.

"When you have taken the potion as you ought to, is it still unbearable for you to be locked up?"
Hunter let his gaze wander and thought for a moment, seriously considering the matter.

"No. That's always fine after a while—you've occupied me well enough and made it really comfortable there. It's just the transformation that's total pain…" the boy answered truthfully.

"But…I was wondering…if I could run free at Hogwarts…when I take the potion every night…?"

"That's not all my decision," Jacob answered, remarking the pleading look Hunter gave him. "Dumbledore has a say on it, too. But you know last night didn't exactly help building the trust," he said, his tone and expression serious. "So, I'm very eager to hear your version of last night—all the way up to midnight."
Hunter drew a deep breath and started, hoping he wouldn't say something too stupid.

"I…skipped the potion because I wanted to experiment with it—prove that there's more to it. Feeling significantly different last night I didn't want to risk family members…but she…she's been annoying little spy for over a year now an I just…thought I'd mess with her big time for a change…" the boy spoke slowly, his gaze back at his hands. "I would nae have really harmed her at all…" he added quietly.

"That was still very cruel thing to do—for which you're going to do her chores as well as your own and I will freeze your pocket money, until further notice. Both of you will be cleaning the mess downstairs," Jacob stated calmly but left no room for arguments.

"Oh, come on—it wasn't that bad of a joke," Hunter still protested, his gaze turning into frustrated as he decided his life sucked already though the discussion had barely begun. Even the slight consolation of Freya not getting off completely free out of the incident, did not make it any better.

"Joke, you say? Like the one about her being mentally ill?" Jacob stated, growing clearly more tense, so Hunter didn't protest immediately though he felt like doing so.

"Do you have any idea how serious mental illness can be or how it affects the person's loved ones?" Jacob asked and studied his son's reaction especially hard—for if he did not understand it fully, this offense might be excusable to some degree. They had no personal experience on such issues but he had seen a lot in his years as a crime police, but a ten years old child might not have or be able to grasp it on his own. And Hunter did seem genuinely uncertain and thoughtful.

"Well, I'll teach you that sometime. Just know that it was in very, very poor taste to joke about." The growing anger in his father's tone had Hunter wish he wouldn't have to say anything anymore, but as he thought back, he recalled several things he now wished he hadn't done and couldn't believe he'd done within few hours.

"How you talked at the station to the officers and especially your sister, I could put on the wolf's account and how it probably affected you without the potion, because as far as I know you're not usually that disrespectful nor use that kind of language. But if I ever hear you talk like that again or use such langauge I will not let it pass."
The boy moved restlessly in his chair.

"But the gun and what you had her do, Hunter, what were you thinking?"

"The same as before…I was just…She blames me for mum leaving, so I like to get her in werewolf related stuff…"
At this Jacob gave another deep sigh and rubbed his brow with his fingertips. Worry overcame any other emotion for a while.

"Yeah, I heard, and I understand both of you to some degree—but you've taken this way too far. And you know her being gone is not your fault, right?"
Hunter remained silent for a short moment. "I guess," he then said quietly. You can hear something only so many times until you start believing in it more or less.

"Come here," Jacob said gently and gestured for the boy and Hunter calmly walked over to him. He sat the boy on the bed beside him. Hunter looked up at him with a mixture of curiosity and sadness.

"As my words obviously haven't convinced either of you, I've arranged us to meet your mother next week, and we'll try to settle this for good. But I'm telling you again, it was not you. It was the wolf alone. The point is, it could be in Freya or in me instead of you and she would've left the same—making the basic reason her own werewolf related past. She was supposed to keep in contact but didn't, which was very, very wrong of her—again, not your fault," Jacob explained calmly.

"Dad. what happened to her?" Hunter asked for the first time out loud, having pondered it for the past three years, assuming it was likely the typical—almost bitten or killed by a werewolf or perhaps some family member having such fate. This also had him for the first time realize just why his "joke" last night had not been a good one. Freya must have some sort of trauma from the night it all started. He didn't have much time to dwell on the realization when his thoughts were yanked back to the mother.

"I think that should be up to her to tell if she so wishes," said Jacob, happy to be able to say it as he had absolutely no interest in revealing the truth to such young children. And he was quite sure Carrie wished to keep it to herself for the same reason: A rape attempt by a half transformed werewolf was not a children's story, or a teen story, or a story at all so long as he could decide.

"Will she stay?" Hunter asked, not sure of if he wanted it or not.

"I don't know but I don't think so. She's started a whole new life in another town."

"Hmmh," Hunter uttered in deep thought, his gaze wandering to the window where bright Friday morning sun greeted him.

"Why can't you two just talk to me instead of tormenting each other? I've asked you numerous times why are you so often at each other's cases," Jacob asked after a short silence, looking at Hunter. By the mischievous smile that spread on the boy's face, he knew what the answer was going to be.

"I don't know about her but I find it awful lot of fun for my part," the boy said and looked back at him. "Come on, dad, you have a little brother!" he added when Jacob's serious expression did not change into an understanding at all. Hunter knew dad wouldn't approve but he'd hoped he'd at least know what it was like. Jacob remained serious, in fact he grew even more so with a mixture of deep sadness.

"Whom I've been trying to find for the last thirty years. Appreciate your sister while she's still here," he spoke, his gaze fixed at Hunter, happy to notice the boy gave his words a serious thought.

"Ben was a lot like you in many ways—most crucially just as stubborn, spirited an adventurous, which I believe essentially lead to his disappearance. He was only five. An I really don't want to lose you too. Do you understand?" Jacob told and gently ran his hand through his son's black, messy hair having him look up again and meet the worry and love in his eyes.

"Yes," Hunter replied, giving a hesitant smile for he knew the topic was likely soon returning to the original but hoped dad had somehow forgotten about it. Jacob did linger on his brother's memory for a moment. He himself had been young too, but he remembered him well. Sometimes he wondered who Ben would be today? Many times during the last decade he had sworn to himself he'd do all in his power to raise this boy into a fine and compassionate man, and see him live his dreams—with his sister sharing that life.

"The score-settling and fighting with your sister has to end right now. I'll be telling all this to Freya the same, and tonight after I bring her home we'll set some new ground rules for you two. Which reminds me, you're grounded till further notice," he said sternly, returning to the original topic much for Hunter's disappointment.

"But my tenth birthday is in a couple of weeks! You're not cancelling the party?" the boy exclaimed and oozed distress, staring up at his father, completely horrified. Jacob looked back at him, considering. He knew it was really, really important to the boy and it was supposed to be special this year. He himself would like to see it happening too.

"No, not necessarily—it depends on your behaviour until then. In any case, other than that you're grounded till further notice," he repeated. Hunter sighed in relief. He thought he could possibly keep from mischief for that long if he really tried. He wasn't too upset about the grounding either, for by the sound of it, it was applied with dad's typical policy in which misbehaviour was punished and good behaviour rewarded.

"OK, I'm going to start cleaning the downstairs," Hunter said quickly, got up just as quickly and tried to leave as quickly.

"Oh, no you don't," stated Jacob as he grabbed the boy's arm and pulled him back to sit on the bed. "I watched a silver bullet fly only an inch past your head and I buried a dog this morning. We've talked about the dangers for a thousand times, so what the hell did you think you were doing?"

"I just wanted to see what happens and I thought I'd be different, that skipping just one drink wouldn't render it completely ineffective…I hoped it would have me somewhere in between," the boy replied, having thought of this answer since he woke up in the basement, though doubted anything he could say would help, but silence wouldn't have served any good either. His gaze lingered at the doorway.

"What made you think in between would be safe enough to run around out there?" Jacob asked and let go of his arm.

"I…guess I didn't think that much. I just wanted to try…you know I like being a werewolf," the boy said and sounded like it had been just a failed experiment to him, which it in the end was as he didn't remember anything since the moment of the transformation.

"Yes, I've become painfully aware that you consider it a gift and not a curse at all and how you being so into horror stuff isn't helping. And apparently nothing I say will make you understand it's not a matter to fool around with!" Jacob stated. "And judging by your behaviour last night I can't help but think I've also let you off too easily lately. So you know what comes next," he added, finally making the decision to go for what he knew the boy had always responded to the best, although he still used very selectively.
The next thing Hunter knew was finding himself across his father's lap and reacted immediately, starting to struggle away.

"No, no, wait! I do understand, I can take it seriously, I will!" he cried out in genuine distress, not really thinking of what he was saying but about getting away as he felt his father's open hand repeatedly strike down hard and firm all over his bottom, and knew that this was only the beginning.

"I don't think so, Huinter, not just yet," said Jacob, restraining the boy who had managed to struggle his way on to the floor. "If you were anywhere near taking it seriously, you would not have gone out last night, literally breaking away when you were already safely inside," he continued, holding the boy by the arms. Hunter didn't say a word but it was clear it made sense to him, but it came out as frustrated sigh. He knew he had run out of chances.

"Hunter, you would have died out there if the wolf hadn't howled and I immediately noticed it leaving," Jacob said slowly and calmly but extremely serious—to him nothing in the world was more important to get through to this child. "And the wolf could have killed people. And all in all your behaviour last night was a danger to yourself and others. Do you understand that I will not have last night happen ever again?"

"Yes," Hunter whispered, looking away and trying to remember any split second of the night but couldn't. He wasn't struggling anymore. "But I didn't—" he tried once more, looking up with pleading eyes. There was no way for him to fully grasp it all with no memory of almost dying…or killing a dog…or biting anyone. He was cut off.

"Listen well now," Jacob said, his tone growing stern. "From now on you will always take the potion every single night during the week leading up to full moon, you will never run free in a wolf form withoot my permission, never play with real guns, you stop tormenting your sister and never lie to me again," Jacob summed up the long list of lessons that had to be learned. The last one of course being over-generalized but he knew the boy was old enough to know the difference between the so-called white lies and black lies. "That's a lot to remember for a little boy, especially one as spirited as you. So no, you're not getting away withoot a spanking," he stated as he pulled Hunter up on his feet and calmly but determinately pulled the boy's jeans and then boxer shorts down to the ankles, put him over his lap, positioned his bottom properly high for effective disciplining and held him firmly in place.

Hunter paled a little, trembling in anxiety as he waited for the first smack, for the list of offences was unusually long and serious. He'd certainly feel this spanking somewhat even the day after tomorroe! Still he felt safe, for these had never become abusive and another consolation was that his father never used any implimenrs but only his open hand.

"Dad, I'm really sorry already!" he nervously insisted, a part of him still hoping to get away with just being grounded, and still tried to wiggle away. "Couldn't you, just this once-?"
"Not nearly sorry enough," Jacob cut him off and delieverd the first firm smack right in the center of his boy's bare buttocks making the brat yelp at the intense stinging.

Jacob wasn't worried at all, seeing to that this was only his son—the wolf had gone and if it depended on this, it would never come back. There would only be in a wolf form, the same mischievous and spirited boy whome he knew every momet of his life.
Hunter started off brave, but broke down to tears and sobs soon enough. The boy was small so his large hand easily covered both of the buttocks at once, quickly setting the whole bottom on fire as he continued delievering firm spanks, at times a few seconds in between and at times in intense showers of spanks. This time had to be extra severe, so he needed to hold the boy's wrist behind his back much longer than usually, to keep him from constantly trying to cover his butt. The bed side's arm couldn't really even reach back. Most of the time he just spanked, increasingly hard, letting the brat think about what was happening. But every now and then scolded the boy for naughty behaviour and gave a stern lecture about all last night's offences, making sure all the lessons were learned.

As always, he kept an eye on his child and the physical results so that the punishment wouldn't cross the line over to abuse. Although long and hard if necessary, he never spanked constantly and never bruising. And even though sternly, he never scolded too much. About ten minutes and a couple of hundred spanks later Hunter had been crying out and bawling hard for quite a while with aching and intensely burning butt, blubbering pleas for daddy to stop and promising to be good. He was no longer squirming and trying to resist but mostly submitted to the disciplining. But his being also clearly showed refound respect for his father's life-experience and authority, and understanding of how serious last night's offences were.

"You're a child, but not so young anymore. You must learn responsibility. That's why, when you asked, I left you two alone for a few hours with just a neighbour checking on you even though I knew you might be tempted to pull something dangerous," Jacob spoke calmly and sternly as he continued laying occasional firm hard smacks on the little butt that was by now blazing hot and dark red all over, looking down at the boy who was just repeating how sorry he was though barely comprehendable through crying hard.

"I obliviated the werewolf hunter's memory of us, but he's not the only one out there. You must keep that in mind. Do I make myself clear?" he spoke softly but stenrly, looking down at his boy and delievered another firn smack, though increasingly softer.

"Y-yes!" Hunter replied in between sobs and wiped away tears, many more falling to replace them.

"And you'll behave yourself?" Jacob asked, followed by one more very firm smack on the center of the boy's well-spanked butt, receiving another humble reply.

"Alright..." Jacob stated warmly, gently running his hand a few times through the boy's swishy hair and let go of his wrist. "It's over now. You're a good boy, Hunter. Good boy..." he spoke softly, in soothing tone, and proceeded to gently rubbing the boy's back. Effectively comforthing him with loving words and gentle touch for a minute or so, just letting him lay there until his crying had calmed down to just loud sobbing.

"Get up," Jacob told him and slowly Hunter rose to his feet, sobbing and rubbing his sore and hot bottom. Accepting a handkerchief his father offered him the boy blew his nose, but continued sobbing.

"Hey..." Jacob said while gently turning Hunter to face him, taking an eye contact and gently rubbing his arms. "It's not just my brother's fate and you reminding me of him that makes me worry about you so much. It's you, when you're not being impossible, you're the light of my life—I really don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you," he spoke and gently wiped tears from his child's cheeks. The boy had been an accident but Jacob didn't even remember it, for once he was born it had felt like he'd been waiting for it all his adult years. He had always loved children and babies too but having a part of himself in the world had turned out to be something beyond words to describe.

When pulled into an embrace and receiving a gentle kiss on his brow, Hunter embraced his father back for dear life even as he begun to register how he indeed had never sacrificed much of a thought to the enemies of werewolves, he had just adored the wolves themselves. As well as how mean he had been to his sister though loved her dearly. Sobbing into his father's chest he tried to cope with the terrible intense burning and aching in his butt. There was no way he'd be pulling his pants back up any time soon, the pain was intense enough even without them. Yet he was again taken over by the feeling of safety as his dad's embrace was very protective and gentle. The werewolf hunter's words about them all going bad sooner or later and remark that for children it might be even likelier, came back to the man. This moment was full of affection and need, they were once again on the same page.

"I'm sorry, daddy..." Hunter whispered through sobs, once more from the bottom of his heart, feeling especially young in this moment of clarity that he still had a lot of growing and learning to do.

"I know, honey, I know," Jacob replied, quietly and gently into his ear whil caressing hsi back. "You're forgiven. I love you, son."
After a couple of minutes holding and comforting he pulled away, kissed his son's forehead and took a good look at him. The boy appeared calm and stable and no more crying the least bit, but still sorry - so he felt it would be time to leave him thinking of this all by himself for a time.

"You're not going to school today, I've called you in as ill. You know the general rules of being grounded, as we agreed on them long ago. This time's duration being unspecified, you're free to roam the house. If you're hungry, come down for breakfast. In any case I'll be downstrairs if you need me," he announced at the door, looking back at Hunter. "Lunch is around eleven."

Hunter stood there staring at the closed door and then out of the window, thinking back on what just happened. Even though he didn't have any memory of the worst of last night, he was starting to realize that he has a problem with his attitude on werewolves, the kind that wasm't all about him but hurt those he loved and endangered everyone around him. And he didn't want that. He would try and brush up on self-discipline, stop and think more before doing something stupid, and hold on to his promises to the best of his ability.

As he walked downstairs for breakfast he for a moment doubted if Freya really was his sister, because that ridiculously easy little angel was almost the complete opposite of him who often found himself learning the hard way. Thanks to a loving father, he thought, this time that was only horrible suspence after sunrise and a sore butt for a day or two.
During the day the deathly aspects of his adventure became more subconscious but connected to an intense physical pain as sitting down was painful. Every time he had a moment with his dad or sister he felt like he never wanted to be apart from them, his spirits lifting remarkably from the misery following the morning's events. He loved to be his father's son and his sister's brother, but he couldn't deny that his heart belonged also to the wolf within.

A bit before ten that night Hunter knocked on Freya's door. She'd gone to bed early, as their bed time on weekends was at ten. And though he was still completely against having bed times, he wasn't planning to rebel against it tonight. Freya hadn't spoken to him much that day, so he decided to make the first move. There was no invitation in, so he quietly opened the door and peaked in.

"Freya, you still awake?" he whispered to the girl lying in her bed under the covers, completely out of sight—still no sign of consciousness. The boy stepped in and pawed over to her bed as silently as he could. He knelt beside her bed and poked her side gently—then three times and less gently. No change. Was she really asleep without even making fun of his sucky life situation? For all he had thought of last night he didn't believe she could've just forgiven him. A devilish smile crept on his face as he decided to test the situation by the book.

"Well…then I guess I can freely put this huge and living spider in her mouth…" he said out loud as a housefly landed on the floor near enough for him to squash, and then pick up and bring closer to the girl.

"Don't even think about it!" Freya exclaimed immediately, jumping into sitting position and hitting him in the head with her pillow. Hunter stumbled backwards just in case but couldn't help laughing from the bottom of his heart but calmed down quickly.

"It was just a dead housfly," he said.

"Eww, you're so disgusting!" Freya commented glaring at the fly on his open palm.

"And you're such a girl. You shouid toughen up a little bit," Hunter grinned at her. In her mind she admitted she actually should be tougher after so many years with a brother like Hunter, but she was not going to say it out loud. She just snorted and crossed her arms on her chest.

"Why don't you sit down and tell me how to toughen up," she just had to throw at him though she hadn't taken the bug joke too seriously. She was just generally mad at him. Hunter gave a deep sigh, and got up to his feet. By the emphasis he interpreted she was really bitter as fully aware he would not be sitting down comfortably for quite a while.

"I wasn't going to put it in your mouth, I just wanted to see if you're faking or not," the boy said, growing more serious, which caught Freya's attention.

"Then why are you here?" she asked, still suspicious, but relaxed enough to lie back down. Hunter disposed the fly and climbed on her bed, lying down on his stomach, next to her, leaning on his elbows.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what I did to you. Dad said something today that had me thinking of it from your point of view…seeing to the night we met the wolf," he said and noticed that sorry wasn't such a hard word when you really, really meant it.

"Took you long enough," she snorted dryly. "But I guess you're nae a complete idiot then," she added, showing appreciation for the apology. She still looked slightly mad as they stared at each other for a moment, he spoke again.

"It's just really hard for me to see others' side, sometimes. I love that I got bitten and I can't understand why anyone wouldn't. Though as I've always said, I didn't go to get bitten, I just wanted to see a werewolf. I just afterwards came to feel this is brilliant. And…I certainly can't relate to your mummy issues because I remember her and she was a mother but not a mum to me." He picked up one of Freya's stuffed animals, a little, floppy white kitten and started to bounce it on the wall in front of him, knowing it was her favourite. He was subconsciously again growing annoyed that she blamed him.

"Or because you're just so utterly a daddy's boy," she snorted, refusing to believe the woman she very faintly remembered wasn't mum material.

"Or that," Hunter admitted as that was part of the truth, and he didn't wish to start an argument now.

"Did dad talk to you?" he asked after a moment of silence during which Freya snatched her kitten from the boy who had begun to try and pick it apart.

"Yes, and I guess I'm sorry too. I want to hear mum's side first," she said quietly, looking at her soft toy. Hunter looked at her and decided to be satisfied with that.

"Any chance of you forgiving me then?" he tried again, hoping this was the right moment to push it.

"Well…" she said and from the sound of it he believed she was about to say something she'd been plotting all day. The huge, pleased smile that spread on her face—even though beautiful—seemed ominous to him. Then she looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"I will if you go and audition to sing at our school's closing ceremony this summer," she said, her smile turning into a grin. Hunter blinked in confusion and suspicion.
He'd been home schooled until age 7, and after last night Jacob considered taking him out of school and back to home schooling. That he could of course attend to other social activities if he liked.

"I think dad's taking me out of school before that. What makes you think they'll pick me?" he asked.

"Because once theey hear you sing they won't even remember there's anyone else," she said sincerely and just smiled again.

"Umm…" Hunter said slowly and suspiciously, staring at the wall. Even though it was a compliment and he acknowledged it was probably close to what might happen…

"…and you know I love singing, especially in public, so I'm actually getting a bit scared here. What exactly would I be singing?" He looked at her as if she was holding beautifully wrapped but ticking package out to him, telling him it was a cool new toy and to open it at some specific time.

"You'll see if you're brave enough to agree," she said, trying to use in her advance the way boys usually hated being called cowards. Hunter was no exception.

"If it's some horrible, overly sweet song of love and spring and angels, I will wear whatever I wish, no matter what the show is about," Hunter stated determinedly but looked uncertain for having just agreed to something he had no real clue about—in a situation where his sister evidently had some sort of a vengeance strike going on.

"Aww, what's the matter, brother dear? I didn't see you protesting in the Potters' wedding last year when they asked you to sing the song they'd chosen for themselves, and you sung it with feeling too," she said and poked his side.

"It was not that horrible song! And they…paid me!" Hunter claimed and snatched the white kitten back, hating how the girl remembered all the wrong things.

"And you didn't even pull a series of horror related practical jokes there!" she then remembered.

"Dad would have killed me!" he said in his defence.

"Or weddings just make you all fluffy and romantic!" Freya teased and even pinched his brother's cheek.

"Shut up, they do not!" Hunter pulled away and pushed the kitten in her laughing face, hiding his own into the mattress for he could not help but smile and even laugh a little.

"Yes, they do! They do!" the girl went on and ruffled his hair. "Your new name shall be Fluffy—it even suits your full moon form," she planned and sounded way too serious about it. Hunter groaned into the mattress, horribly frustrated but decided to give up—she would likely forget about this soon enough and if there was a God she would not get the idea of spreading Fluffy as his artist name or something. He had a reputation to protect even though he didn't go to the same school!

"Look, whatever!" he finally exclaimed in hopes to change the topic before it got worse. "Are we good now? Truce, at least until we hear from mum?" he asked looking at her with serious eyes, making her forget about her new idea for a moment. She nodded happily. For a moment they just lied there in silence, enjoying the first moment of their long lost sibling relationship.

"Is dad still taking us to the Halloween party at Hogsmeade?" Freya asked, worried that their troublesome behaviour for so long had affected their plans that far.

"It's my last Halloween at home for a while, so yeah. He wants to spend it wi us in some special way." Hunter informed happily.

"Oh, goodie-then I won't have to suffer your horror pranks all night but can be with my friends in peace. You'll be busy geitting everyone else or playing with dad," Freya sighed in relief.

"I don't play anymore, I…hang with people," the boy stated in a momentary need to come off mature, though he had to admit to himself that most people would call his activities child's play still, and most of the time he did too. "And you just worry about the next April first now…" he then grinned at her. He always came up with something extra special for April's Fool as he pranked around the year anyway.

"Thanks for reminding, I'll run to my friends' that day," Freya smirked.

"Oh, you can run but you cannot hide..." Hunter laughed as his eye caught the clock on her night table and it claimed time to be five to ten, so he climbed over her and they wished good nights.

"Hey, Fluffy! The auditions are next Friday. Don't forget, you promised!" she exclaimed after him when he was at the door.

"Uggh…" was all he could let out in response. What had he done? Why didn't he just wait, as Freya had never been able to stay angry at him for too long?

"Dad?" he called out from Jacob's room's doorway.

"Hmh?" Jacob lifted his eyes to the boy from the papers he'd been studying in order to later do something useful for work during his days off.

"Do you have any idea what Freya's class has in store for the closing ceremony before summer break?" Hunter asked and regretted not bothering to pay attention to it.

"No, I think they're still in the middle of organizing its program. Why curious?"

"Well, I kind of just agreed to audition for some singing thing and she's so convinced they'll pick me…" the boy explained, twisting and turning the door's handle, nervous to even think of all the possibilities. There was sorts of horror even a huge horror fan could not take.

"Would be the first time if someone didn't," Jacob commented with a smile. He was fairly sure that if Hunter was interested in attending, he would win just about any talent contest any day.

"Anyway, I'm afraid it's going to be some horribly girly thing in some twisted way," the boy went on with a horrified expression. Jacob couldn't help but laugh out loud but it was a heartfelt, loving kind.

"Look, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll find a way to make it less bad, perhaps even pleasant," he then comforted the boy. "You're very resourceful and clever."

"Yeah...I suppose so..." Hunter stated and found his smile again. "Well, I guess I can sleep then. Good night. I love you."

"Good night, mate. I love you, too," Jacob said as the boy walked away. He didn't return to his papers that night but just enjoyed the feeling of home, which he now noticed the house hadn't felt that much lately.
It was almost midnight again. Hunter lied in his bed on his tummy after staring out of the window at the moon, for a long, long time. It seemed like it would take forever for it to be full again. Although at the moment he did not wait for it anywhere near as eagerly as before. He had also remarked family love was much more fulfilling than anything he'd got to feel last night without the Wolfsbane.
Then why, he thought as he closed his eyes, why did he feel a distant yearning to experience the wolf again…and remember?