Prologue

Pandora sat across from James, looking at her folded hands.

"Rora, I know how you feel…"

She cut him off, her voice a weak interruption. "I don't know what to do, James. I'm so afraid." She sniffed, the tears she'd been holding back since she'd found out pouring down her cheeks. "I won't do it. I can't, but I know it'll kill him." Wiping her eyes furiously, she clutched her stomach. "But it will kill me too. I'll either kill him or myself, James. He knows it too," she looked at the door wistfully. "And I can't bear to hurt him. After all he's done for me, I can't do that to him But I can't – I won't do what he wants." She started to gather her things, but James put a hand on her arm.

"Leaving will hurt him more, Pandora. You know it will. He loves you and he always will, regardless of your choice." He pleaded with her softly on behalf of his friend.

"You honestly believe that?" she snapped at him. "Have you seen him lately?" she looked to the door again/ "I told him so many times, I knew this would tear us apart…" her voice faltered as a few more tears fell. "Bye James. Tell him I love him. He won't forgive me, so I won't ask for mercy. I'll stay in touch." She ran past him and through the party to the door. James ran after her, but only found his friend staring blankly at the front door. The music and chatter stopped as the door slammed shut.

"I'm sorry—" James began, but his friend was already running after Pandora.

"Okay, honey. Be safe. Owl if anything happens. Love ya," and a quick kiss later she was alone. Not that Pandora could blame her mother. She was probably worried about her dad, which Pandora wasn't and never would be. It was a rather harsh and cynical view for an eleven year old to have, but it was his fault she had a stupid ring on her finger and he was the reason she was being watched by the Ministry. He was rarely home, and when he was mom was always fighting with him. But still her mom constantly worried about her husband's safety.

"Love, honey. I love your father. You'll understand when you're older."

And she still didn't. Once a month, she knew her dad would be away, due to the full moon, but for weeks, even months on end he'd disappear with his pack. Then Emily would be absolutely furious but would turn into a nervous wreck after a day. He said he left to protect Pandora, but it was too late. The Ministry already found her and marked her for observation.

She was one of the few surviving children of a werewolf and a human. They were few and far between for one reason: blood. Werewolf—and vampire, for that matter—blood is poisonous to humans, hence the transformation when people are bitten and fed the blood. But people like Pandora—damned creatures were born with mixed blood, making them damned. Not in a religious sense, as in their souls were damned to Hell, but as in they were damned because they were a ticking time-bomb.

Werewolf blood reacts during the full moon, obviously, and gets stronger during those times. It fights with the human blood, causing the damned creature absolute agony, similar to the transformation a werewolf goes through, but without the release of actually changing. Just sheer pain until the sun rises. And in the few recorded cases of damned creatures, all died after a decade of living. The human body couldn't fight off the werewolf blood, but wasn't strong enough to survive the final transformation. So, as of last year she was supposed to be dead or the one thing she hated. Since she was the only living one in England, the Ministry put her observation, testing her blood levels every week, recording her reaction to treatment, taking notes on her suffering during the full moons. There were monthly articles about her in the Prophet in the health section. They had planned on keeping her at the Ministry for observation, but when Pandora's Hogwarts letter came, Emily pleaded for proper schooling, so now Pandora was headed to Hogwarts with a stupid ring and weekly reports to the Headmaster about her condition. She would rather poke a rusty fork in her eye than talk to Dumbledore every week about how the pain was exactly the same as it had been last week, but going to Hogwarts was a kind of freedom. Despite the conditions—the ring, meetings with Dumbledore, letter to the Ministry, supervision from the Head of the House and prefects—it was a victory.

"Pandora gather her things and headed for Platform 9 ¾, remembering the explicit instructions her mother had given her.

"Just walk into the wall between nine and ten, trust me." She stood a few feet away and was about to walk when she saw a confused looking boy.

"Need some help?" ash asked, tapping him on the shoulder. His clothes were a bit worn-looking and his sandy hair was in need of a trim, but he had a kind face.

"You won't believe me," he said with a small laugh.

"Platform 9 ¾?" He peered around her and saw her trunk then grinned, nodding. "Come on," she held out her hand and pulled him and her trunk through the brick wall.

"Wow," they said on the other side.

"Did I seriously just walk through a brick wall?" he asked quietly, in awe.

"Mum told me about it, but…" she looked back at the wall, "wow."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm Remus, by the way."

"Pandora Grey,"

"The one in the papers?" he asked and she grimaced at him.

"Don't tell me you're someone hired by the Ministry to look after me." She pulled her things to the train with a groan.

"No, no. I—I just…I read about you. In the papers. See, I'm like you. In a way. I'm a werewolf." He followed her to an empty compartment, stumbling over his words with embarrassment.

"And you're going to school?" Her dad left school when he had been changed.

"Of course. I'm not going to let this get in my way."

"Wow," and because of that conversation, she stopped hating all werewolves. They talked until the train left the station, Pandora about her family, taking no shame in it because it was publicly known already; Remus didn't say much. He was shy normally, but more so about his lycanthropy. He was ashamed of it in a way, embarrassed that things had to be done to accommodate him. She was the opposite of him, she wasn't ashamed or embarrassed. Sure, she might hate it, but there was no point in being shy about it since people already knew. He was finally opening up about himself when two boys ran into the compartment and slammed the door shut.

"Are they gone?" one asked, his hazel eyes alight with mischief. He went to open the door, but the other held him back, pressing a finger to his lips. In the hall a group of kids ran past, their footsteps loud and angry. Pandora could make out a few phrases as they passed, mostly along the lines of "Where are the little prats?"

The two black-haired boys fell into the seats, laughing loudly.

"Not being funny, but if you don't want to get hexed into oblivion, I'd suggest shutting up," Pandora said, pointing to the silhouette of the mob as it passed again.

"Ah," the one with glasses muttered, instantly sobering. "Thanks," he said once it was safe.

"No problem," Pandora said with a wave of her hand. "Except now you owe me big time…"

Okay, so there it is. I've just started this fic and I hope to post often. However, I'm very often a victim of Writer's Block, so please bear with me.

Reviews are welcomed!