Hi there! I'd like to take the time to thank Eisit and whyisthissoawesome for following my story, and also to thank Dreamy-Girl2016 for favoriting! :)

Beatrix is an old, old character of mine that I have used for many different purposes, and as such, her personality may feel a little bit...spread out and varied. I try to keep her as far away from being a Mary Sue at all times. She's also a very...grating person.

This fic is also a way for me to explore how to elaborate and develop characters, and so, some of the characters may be Out-Of-Character as the story progresses and changes. This work will not follow the strict timeline that the books/movies have laid out, but it will stay close.

And now, on to the story! I do not own Harry Potter, Shallow Graves, or any content taken from either book.


(Remus)

Hogwarts was buzzing with a tense, nervous atmosphere. Remus could feel the tension creeping down his spine, setting his nerves on end. It was the beginning of May, when all the snow shed from the wold and life began anew. But something felt off today, and Remus didn't have to wait long to find out what.

"Remus!" Came the voice of his friend Sirius from the direction of the Gryffindor table. There was a group of students huddled towards the end of the Gryffindor table, and Remus walked over to investigate what was going on.

As he approached the group, Remus heard worried murmurs and stressed whispers, and one of the younger students was shuffling for a spot to see. On the table was a copy of The Daily Prophet, and the headline for today read,

"MASS AVIAN DEATH IN NORTHERN ENGLAND! FORCE OF MAGIC OR FORCE OF NATURE?"

Remus' brows furrowed in confusion, and he looked at Sirius from across the table, a silent question hanging in the air.

"A bunch of birds dropped dead and no one seems to be able to figure out what from. The mailing system is right screwed up, and we can't send any owls out until Dumbledore figures out what happened." Sirius supplied helpfully as Remus took a seat beside James, who was pouring over the paper.

"Hey, Remus, what town did you say that Lebedev girl lived in?" James asked quite suddenly, forehead cresing in confusion. Remus let out a huff of annoyance, and replied,

"Her name was Beatrix, and she lived in Bradford, England. Why?"

"Well, it says here that the center of the event is right in Bradford. That seems kinda strange, doesn't it?" James slid the paper over to Remus, and he looked to where James indicated.

"...avians of all types seem to have dropped dead to the ground early yesterday morning... Seems that the center of the event was Bradford, and no magical folk have come forth to claim responsibility for the event... The Bradford owl post suffered minimal losses but are also inquiring into the event... At this time, no dark magic is suspected to be at play..."

Remus' frown deepened. He wasn't sure what this meant, but his gut was telling him that something wasn't right in the world.


(Beatrix)

Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot.

Walk. Walk. Walk.

Step. Step. Step.

Walking through Bradford in Spring was one of my favorite things to do. But right now, it was my least favorite. I was covered in a sheen of dirt, the dark earth staining my white hair brown. I had fled the site I had woken up at immediately, thankful that I seemed to be in my own city. I was currently on my way home, heart racing in my chest, and side throbbing.

I didn't dare look at my side. I didn't know what happened, why I was buried, why...why anything. I honestly didn't want to know either.

I came upon my family's apartment, and I dug in the dirt beside the lilac tree in the front yard, unearthing the spare key. I let myself in discreetly, seeing as both of my parents were probably at work, and made a bee-line for my own room. I grabbed myself a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom, stripping off my dirty clothing.

I finally got a good look at my side, and my stomach churned. Dried blood crusted around bite marks that lay on my right side. It looked almost like a dog bite, but too big for any domestic dog. I stood in shocked silence for what seemed an eternity, a hot-cold feeling sweeping over my body.

I shouldn't be alive.

...

I'm not alive.

With that realization, I numbly stepped into the shower, turning it on and letting the water cascade over me, quickly going from ice cold to piping hot. But I didn't care about the temperature right now.

Like a dam bursting after a storm, the tears broke through my numb facade and I collapsed into a heap of limbs on the floor, gasping and sobbing until my chest hurt. I couldn't be dead, but how could I even begin to explain the events that I've dealt with this morning?

After a while, the water started to turn lukewarm, and I slowly hauled myself up off of the floor. With almost mechanical movements, I cleaned the dirt off my body and finished showering. I dried off as quick as I could, and put the bathroom back to how it was before as best as I could.

I walked back to my room, got dressed in some fresh clothing, and packed myself a small bag with three changes of clothes, my wand, my notebook, portable radio, and some money. Not enough to notice the items gone. I pulled on a my new pair of sneakers, I had just bought them for the new schoolyear, and I departed my house.

A bittersweet feeling flooded me as I crossed the foyer for the last time. I looked around, then started off down the street.


There's another chapter. Of course, some more borrowed ideas from Shallow Graves. I really enjoyed the book, and maybe you would too. What do you think? :)