Chapter Three: The Ashes

Lucy Banks-Turing stood over a roaring, spitting fireplace, desperately trying to make a connection with her husband, Eric. After all her children had survived the attack with only a cut on Alice's face, she was in tears, frightened it would not be the end of it. Her strawberry blonde hair was piled on her head in disarray and her house mother blue overalls had ashes and scorch marks strewn through them. She was exhausted and shaky, and didn't even remember where Emily had gone, just that she was alive. As she ran her cold, nimbly fingers over her face, she thanked the stars her children were healthy and well.

The last time she'd talked to husband, he'd been in Liverpool, apparently on the tail of an underground organization. Where he really should have been was home, with his wife, defending his children. Had it not been for Lucy's brother Donovan arriving today, Lucy feared she wouldn't have been able to hold off the attackers long enough for her children to make it upstairs. In fact she knew this was true, Donovan was the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He'd always been better than her at spells and things.

"Damn it," Lucy said, flicking her wand and extinguishing the flames. A cold chill fell over the room and as she shivered, she happened to look down at one of the white towels Alice had been lying earlier. It was covered in blood. Falling to her knees, Lucy examined the stain, wondering how on earth a simple cut could have caused so much damage. Worried, and possibly hallucinating, Lucy rushed to her daughter's room where Alice was already tucked in bed. Her angel blonde hair spilled out on her pillow like a halo but her aqua blue eyes were open, staring out the window, fixed on something in the distance.

"Alice, honey," her mom said, and Alice turned, revealing Nightlock the cat, wrapped in her arms. She looked scared and worried, her blue eyes were misty and full of loss.

Lucy Banks-Turing put a hand to her daughter's forehead and then sweetly ran it through her hair.

"I'm always here for you, you know that right?" Alice's mom said.

Alice nodded in acknowledgement but didn't say anything in return. She was tired but every time she tried to close her eyes, she imagined the monster man on top of her. Her arm hurt but in a pulsing, sluggish kind of way. She'd put on her long sleeve pigmy puff pyjamas to hide the bandage but Alice didn't really even know why she was trying so hard to hide it, just that the look Emily had given her earlier was enough to know that this was not something that needed a lot of attention.

Mrs. Banks-Turing sat on the edge of Alice's bed for a little while longer, making sure her daughter was calm and sleepy enough to forget the night for at least a little while. She still hadn't figured out where all the blood had come from but she figured if it had been Alice, she would have made much more of a fuss. Before going back to her own room, Lucy checked on her son Henry who was already fast asleep. His light was off and the little boy was wrapped in a lump under his rocket ship blankets. Lucy kissed his forehead and left the room before nearly bumping into Emily who was on her way upstairs. Her waist length wavy mermaid hair was tangled in disarray and she had a distressed look on her angelic features.

"Emily, are you alright?" Lucy asked when her eldest didn't stop after seeing her mom.

"Just leave me alone," Emily said and shut the door to her room before Mrs. Banks-Turing had chance to say anything else.

Emily went straight into her bathroom and shut the door before taking off her summer crop top and high waisted shorts. She looked in the mirror and brushed her teeth before jumping into a very hot shower. As she tried to pour shampoo into her hand she realized just how badly she was trembling. The coconut shampoo was spitting everywhere and Emily didn't know how to stop it. She had actually killed someone. Some-thing, she tried to say to herself, but then what was Alice? On any other night of the month, that thing she killed was an actual person. Why had the words, Avada Kedavra been the first to spring to her mind instead of stupefy, or petrificus totalus. Anything else would have worked in getting the beast off her sister, but she had instinctively decided to kill him. What kind of girl would do that?

Emily Turing got out of the shower and washed her face in the fogged up mirror, then put on her fluffiest pajamas and got under the covers. Maybe she'd wake up tomorrow and this would all be a dream. Her sister wasn't a werewolf, and she most certainly was not a murderer.

When the next morning came, Alice who had spent the night in an endless cycle of waking and sleeping rose and got dressed. She put on some jean shorts and had to search for a long sleeve thin shirt that would cover the bandage but wouldn't arouse suspicion in the summer time. When she lifted the bandage however, Alice noticed that the gore was gone and left was only a thick red scar in the shape of some kind of bite mark. She threw the gause away and put the shirt on, brushing out her long blonde hair and tucking it behind her ears.

Alice was the first one down for breakfast and poured herself a bowl of cereal in the newly restored dining area. She liked having the mornings to herself and being the only one awake so she could just enjoy the peace and silence. It wasn't long though before Uncle Donovan appeared from out of the first story guest bedroom already dressed in his scholarly wizarding robes.

"Good morning Alice," said Donovan as he walked over to the coffee maker in the kitchen. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes," Alice lied and kept her head down as she ate her cereal.

A speckled news owl popped through one of the open kitchen windows at that moment and laid the Daily Prophet down on the table next to Alice's cereal bowl before fluttering off again. Alice had to read the headline twice before digesting the fact that it was indeed about her.

Local Wizarding Family Attacked by Werewolves Last Night; read the highlight. A picture of her house going up in smoke flashed strikingly on the front page. Quickly, Alice unfolded the newspaper and started to read the rest of the article;

Eric Turing, a high profile auror for the Ministry of Magic, has recently put his own family under fire after arresting a member of the Starfire gang. This terrorist organization was notorious for wreaking havoc across London last year up until November when they seemed to disappear for good. Turing however recently caught onto their tail again and arrested one of their top operatives; Helios Star who is currently in Azkaban, awaiting trial. Unfortunately for Turing, the Starfire gang held him under close threats and when Turing could take no more he set out in chase of them. As a result, the wolves were sent after his wife and three kids back at home.

Alice put down the newspaper and tried to digest all the information. Her dad wasn't on a business trip, he was chasing down wizarding terrorists. Terrorists that were after her. Her eyes scanned the page until she found where the article continued.

Sending werewolves to infect the target's loved ones, although in modern times is unheard of, was common practice before and during the reign of the Dark Lord. A child would be infected and then likely sent away from the family as they were no longer human or fit to attend Hogwarts before the time of Albus Dumbledore. Nowadays the werewolf population is sharply declining but there are still those who will submit to a terrorist organization such as Starfire to breed more of them and continue their race.

As reported by head Auror Harry Potter, everyone in the Turing family is safe and sound. Eric Turing sure is a lucky man.

Alice put down the article and reached up to her arm. There was no way she had been infected was there? She didn't even know how to get infected by a werewolf.

"You alright?" Donovan said, coming into the dining area with his cup of coffee. He raised his eyebrows as he took a sip from the steaming cup.

"Yeah," Alice lied again, dropping her arm and picking up her cereal bowl. She saw Donovan pick up the newspaper as she ducked into the kitchen and hid before she saw his reaction. On the couch she found Nightlock and curled up with the furry kitten where no one could find her.

Upstairs, Emily did not want to wake up, and this time it was more than because there were only two weeks left of summer break. As much as she loved being smarter than everyone in her class, a summer break was relaxing- or was suppose to be relaxing. Now, not only did she have to deal with her little sister turning into a cold blooded killer every month but also how to keep it a secret from everyone else. Not to mention the nightmares.

Last night had been rough. She'd woken up in cold sweat around 6am after having another dream about killing the werewolf, only in this time, her spell had missed and hit Alice. She'd seen her sister fall limp and land on the ground like an unwanted doll. It was her fault, the blood was on her hands and as the next two weeks sputtered by, Emily's nightmare's only grew worse.

By the time school rolled around, Donovan Banks was still staying with his sister. She needed him there at all hours in case anything terrible were to ever happened again. He set up a desk in the guest bedroom even after Lucy offered him Eric's office and there he made his lesson plans and ordered the kits he needed to teach his classes. After a day's work Donovan would leave his room after dinner for evening tea and he would see Lucy by the fire, still trying to make contact with her lost husband. All that stared back at her were the glowing talons of of the molten embers.

The Turing children were not the same after the attack. Henry stopped playing basketball outside and Alice hardly breathed a word in between then and the start of school. Emily was always in her room and Donovan worried deeply for the child's mental health. A kind of depression seemed to have molded itself onto the teenage witch's face and she no longer quizzed the professor over every little lesson he would cover in the coming semester. She'd become more serious and defensive, hardly even coming down for meals at this point. Mr. Potter was right in the way that this child would benefit greatly from a form of counseling.

Donovan had hardly taken any photographs since he'd arrived and felt poorly about his lack of motivation. His brown leather briefcase drooped solemnly off the edge of his bed and he'd arranged his various photographs on his duvet one night after he was afraid he'd forgotten something.

There was one photograph in particular that was Donovan's most treasured possession. It

was an old photo of him, when his hair was still black. He was dancing with a beautiful golden haired girl dressed all in white. She had been stunningly beautiful the day of their wedding. In the photo he was holding her in his arms while they danced and smiled at the camera. It had been so long ago that Donovan had forgotten who had taken the photo just that this was the most beautiful image of Ginger, just before her health had declined.

Upstairs the Turing sisters were busy packing while Henry bounced his basketball mindlessly against the wall. Alice had hardly seen her sister since the night of the attack, she been so shut in, but now she emerged from her bedroom, and waited in Alice's doorway.

"Needy help packing?" she offered, watching as Alice tried to cram another textbook into her already over full trunk. "Here," Emily said, grabbing a set of robes. "It helps to have these on top so that you can change into them once you get on the train."

"Thanks," Alice said, piling her dark wizarding robes on top of everything else.

Emily helped Alice sit on top of her trunk to close it and laughed when she almost slid off. She noticed next to it was a little black carrying cage for Nightlock that already had her name engraved on it. Flipping back her wavy mermaid hair, Emily peeked inside at the little kitten who was already sprawled out on a velvety cushion. It hissed at her unpleasantly.

"You really love that cat don't you," said Emily, stepping back a foot.

"Yeah," said Alice softly, not looking up from where she was folding her socks.

Emily tried to think of something to say, but what was someone suppose to talk about with a shy girl like Alice? She didn't want to address the arm but she new she had to at some point.

"Is it healing?" Emily asked casually as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun.

Alice passively ripped her sleeve up revealing a thin red scar engulfing her forearm.

"Healed," she said and pulled the sleeve back down. Alice didn't want to talk about the night either. Every night she was having flashbacks to that very moment and the only thing managing her intense anxiety was the journal she kept underneath her wand box which she now took and packed in the top compartment of her trunk. Emily was no help, she moped in her room all day while Alice tried to research werewolves on her own time. So far it didn't seem to be in any first year curriculum.

"You know I only don't want others to know because I care about you, right?" Emily said, sitting down on the edge of Alice's bed.

Alice looked away, not wanting to meet her sister's eye. "What's happening to me?" she asked, her little voice trembling as the words tumbled out. She'd been holding in that question for too long but was almost to scared to hear the answer. Emily was smart, she knew exactly what was wrong. So did Alice, but she didn't want to believe it yet.

"You were bitten by a werewolf, Alice," Emily said. "Which means you now become one."

Alice didn't move. She'd known this was coming, it was just difficult to hear. With all the postings in the newspaper about old werewolf stories, Alice knew Emily's secrecy could mean no other alternative. She was different now. Not even human. She had become the monster from her nightmares and now, maybe one day she too would be shot down by a teenage witch defending her sister. It was a vicious cycle.