Chapter Six:

Blood Brothers

Naturally, Celestia tried to access the Floo network in the same way once the Snatcher had left, but the hex covered that, too, and despite using half the powder in the pot she couldn't even get her foot into the flames. Instead she spent most of the day in boredom, resigned to the fact that there was nothing much she could do until Scabior made an appearance and told her of her fate. She was surprised at how long he was gone, and glad to have Jinx's company. She exhausted the Snatcher's record collection and, after testing out one or two failed theories of escape she'd crafted, sank into the velvet armchair with a book she'd found left on the kitchen counter, 'A Guide to Wands and the Wizards who Wield Them' by Garrick Ollivander.

The name of the wand-maker from whom she and so many others had purchased their wands sparked her interest. The magical properties of wand woods and cores were all explained in detail, and read almost like the Muggle horoscopes her Mother had grown so fond of. Naturally, Celestia went first to her own wand, and learned how wands of a Zouwu feather core, much like the fantastical beasts from which they came, were prone to fits of mischief and worked best when applied to magic of an explosive nature. Celestia kept this in mind, and swore that she would summon the bravery to muster up a Confringo if she and her wand were ever reunited again.

Celestia then fingered through the pages, and found, after Larch, her own wand wood. The entry read:

It is said that a laurel wand cannot perform a dishonourable act, although in the quest for glory (a not uncommon goal for those best suited to these wands), I have known laurel wands perform powerful and sometimes lethal magic. Laurel wands are sometimes called fickle, but this is unfair. The laurel wand seems unable to tolerate laziness in a possessor, and it is in such conditions that it is most easily and willingly won away. Otherwise, it will cleave happily to its first match forever, and indeed has the unusual and engaging attribute of issuing a spontaneous lightning strike if another witch or wizard attempts to steal it.

She thought Ollivander's summary of her as a Wizard quite intolerable, and began to believe his writings were rather like Muggle horoscopes after all; she did not want glory. She wanted only to be left along, for herself and those she cared about to stay alive, and to live in less exciting times. Laziness, the wand complained of; perhaps that's why she'd found her magic much more malleable since going on the run, her wand was glad for an excuse to show off its talents. She felt quite put out that it had not yet lived up to its promise of striking down Scabior for stealing it, though. Perhaps the wand really was fickle.

Celestia began to read the entries for the wands of her closest friends; Lamia's Willow wood estimations were quite inaccurate, but she found the description of the ideal Applewood wielder fit Aloxus to a T; loyal, well-loved, dependable. She missed him terribly.

Celestia couldn't help but wonder what the Snatcher's wand might say about him. The wood was as black as coal, and could only be Ebony. She flicked through the pages for the entry, which read:

This jet-black wand wood is highly suited to all manner of combative magic. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider. In my experience the ebony wand's perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

The young Witch frowned over the words. A fringe outsider, yes, and thriving as such, but Scabior did not seem the type to really hold any firm beliefs; he seemed to sway as lightly as a willow reed to which ever side was offered the best deal at any given moment. His moral compass was constantly spinning, unable to settle on North. She did not believe that he felt any stake in the Death Eaters' mission, but neither did he care enough about their injustices to act in any way against it. He was a mercenary through and through.

Everything was quiet until, at five o'clock, Jinx started barking. Soon after there was a knock at the front door.

Celestia closed the book into her lap, spent a frozen minute deciding what to do then moved slowly into the hallway.

It could be the Snatcher, but then why would he be knocking? Why wouldn't he have apparated, or returned via the fireplace?Through the frosted glass window pane she could see the outline of the visitor; he was too tall to be Scabior, and built a little differently. Unaware that she was stood there, the man knocked again, more insistently this time.

"Scabs! Move that damned bloody dog and open up, it's me!"

Celestia's heart leapt into her throat. She backed up to the stairwell, hoping whoever it was would give up and go away.

Luck, the past two days had proven, was not on Celestia's side, and she stood horror-stricken as she heard a key turn in the lock. Jinx began barking even more vigorously as the man stepped inside, but it wasn't the friendly bark he'd greeted Scabior with. Celestia swore she heard the man growl back, and Jinx backed up into the living room. Celestia sprinted up the staircase, but not quickly enough for the intruder not to hear her footsteps.

"Scabs! So you are 'ere, me old mucker. I wish you'd get rid of this mangy old mutt. Didn't you hear me banging? It's a good job I still keep a key to this place. They've suspended my Apparation license, you know, and do you think those bastards at Floo-Pow will send me any more of the good stuff after that incident with the Ashwinder in the fireplace last year? Like hell they will!"

Celestia watched as the man crossed the corridor and stepped through into the living room, pulling Jinx along with him by the collar, the hound barking like mad all the way. He opened the back door and cast the canine out into the cold. He quickly snapped the door shut after him, muttering under his breath, and made his way to the fireplace; he blew a kiss to the woman in the portrait before opening up the little pot full of floo powder and pocketing a glittering green handful of it, looking around to ensure he hadn't been spotted.

When he saw Celestia looking back at him from the top of the staircase, he said,

"Oh."

Celestia stood very still, almost frozen. It would have been ridiculous of her to hide, she told herself, only for Scabior to return and reveal that she'd been cowering in the locked bathroom or something similar. In reality the thought simply hadn't come to mind quick enough. They stared at one another in silence for a long moment before the man said, with a half-smile,

"You're a welcome addition to the furniture. Don't worry, I'm not a burglar. Is Scabs around?"

It wouldn't take a Ravenclaw to figure out who the man was. He was younger than Scabior, and a good head taller, but there was no mistaking that the two were brothers. They had elements of the same rugged face, shared the narrow nose and square jawline. They wore the same dark hair though Xavier's- that was his name, Celesta remembered- was a lot shorter, but still looked untameable, sticking out at odd angles from his head. There was a wildness in his eyes, and his teeth were uncomfortably white. Despite his apparent youth, streaks of grey swept either side of his temples, as though the hair had had all the colour brushed out of it.

"He's gone out," Celestia managed, forcing a quick smile. "He should be back soon."

"Ah, brilliant. I, uh, suppose I'll just wait for him 'ere, then."

Celestia's smile turned to a grimace. He was very like his brother. It seemed unfair that she should have to contend with two of them.

Xavier sank quickly into the blue velvet chair and put his feet up on the coffee table, his hands folded behind his head. One foot tapped rapidly against the table top.

As the girl cautiously descended the stairs he held out a hand for her to shake; trying to be cordial as not to aggravate the situation, Celestia offered her own, and a more genuine smile.

"I'm his brother," the man explained, grinning. He had the same unnerving charm as his brother had first shown. "Name's Xavier."

His nails were long and yellow, his thumb digging into her palm.

"I know," she said with energy, "I've heard about you."

"Well, whatever he's told you, good luck proving it," the man answered with a wink, laughing at his own wittiness. He took a deep breath as she bowed her head a little, her hair falling away from her neck.

"Have we met before?"

Celestia shook her head. "I think I'd remember you."

"I suppose I'd remember you, too. But there's something familiar... sorry, didn't catch your name...?"

"Celestia."

The grin remained in place, frozen on his sallow cheeks. "It's a pleasure, Celestia."

He took another sharp inhale. He seemed very on edge.

Of course he did; it was the night of the full moon, after all.

Outside she smiled. Inside Celestia was alight with panic. Being British, there was only one thing to do. Her grin widened.

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Celestia had to wrap the handle of the kettle with a tea towel to prevent it from burning her as she made tea for the two of them. It had seemed to take an age for the kettle to boil, the pair of them waiting there in silence. The girl remained constantly aware of the Werewolf tapping his foot rhythmically against the tabletop, and of Jinx scratching at the back door, growling low.

The man thanked the girl as she brought him his tea, smacking his lips appreciatively at the first scalding hot sip. Celestia began to clean the dishes in the sink as an excuse to keep her distance as the Werewolf sat quite contentedly by the fireplace, rasping his yellow nails against the ceramic, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four. The sound ran straight up Celestia's spine and set her on edge. She watched him closely, unsure of what he would do.

He wore all black with a long grey leather coat which made him appear even taller than he already was. Affable as he so far seemed, she felt that if she took her eyes off him for a moment he would pounce. He gave off an odd sort of effervescence, a boundless energy which might have been appealing had Celestia not known what he was, of the beast that lay behind that too-white smile. She could feel his agitation sparking like a firework, and only hoped that his friendly nature would last until his brother returned. She could hardly believe that she'd been given cause to want the Snatcher near her.

"It's been quite some time since we checked in on each other, Scabs and I, but with the Snatcher's guild being out of action I thought I'd find him here. Is he still wearing those ridiculous trousers?"

Celestia nodded, her smile a little too wide, desperate not to show how anxious she was.

Xavier chuckled to himself. "Some things never change. 'Is hair still needs cutting too, I bet. This place is looking tidier, though." He scratched his stubbled chin with yellow nails. The two brothers shared the same thick accent, cockney as they come, though Xavier's tone was a little more feverish. "It's been a while since I've been back 'ere. Amazing what a woman's touch can do. So who are you, then? A Girlfriend?"

"No."

"Thought not. You're far too lovely to be anywhere near my brother... not by choice, anyway. Is he paying you?"

Celestia said nothing to that. The Wolf read from it what he needed to. He sucked his teeth.

"Ouch. That's unfortunate. I'm sorry to hear it. Nasty old bastard, my brother can be. Where'd he pick you up?"

"On a job," Celestia said, as vaguely as possible. Xavier nodded.

"You got a family?"

"Yeah."

"I bet they're missing you."

She rinsed off the plates, placing them carefully on the rack. "...Yeah."

"I must say, you're very hospitable. He's got you trained well."

Something caught in Celestia's throat. She decided not to say anything back to that.

"He didn't do that to you, did he?"

Celestia felt his eyes on her bandaged arm.

"No. That was... someone else."

"And your face?"

Celestia didn't answer that. The man let out a sigh.

"Sounds like you've been through the wars, love. Looks like it could be pretty painful. Want me to take a look at it? I'm good with my 'ands."

Celestia felt then that he was looking for an opportunity. She was determined to give him no invitation to come any closer. "No, thanks. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Can't say I believe that, but alright. What time did you say Scabs is coming back?"

"About half an hour," Celestia lied. She hoped it would be sooner.

He arched his back a moment, then suddenly sat up straighter. He raised a wrist, checking the time on the large silver watch there. There was a flicker of something in his eye as he looked back to her; outside, the sky was growing darker.

"Hmm. A lot can happen in half an hour."

And that was it. What had previously been suspicion had turned to certainty. Celestia eyeballed the man, waiting for him to make his move.

"You got anything good to eat?" he asked, too slowly. "I'm nearly ravenous."

Celestia opened the biscuit tin, her eyes on the wolf the whole time. She placed a handful of stale digestives onto a plate and brought it over to him, standing far enough out of his reach that he'd have a difficult time grabbing her if he tried.

"Thank you," he said, taking one biscuit and dipping it in his tea. Celestia left the plate on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen, flicking on the record player as she went; she could no longer stand the silence. She took a sip from her own cup to steady herself, then began to slowly dry the cutlery with a tea towel.

It wasn't long before the intruder was back up on his feet. Celestia heard him coming, humming along to the music as he went, felt the surface of her skin buzz electric, every hair standing on end. When he reached the opposite side of the counter they locked eyes. His were steely-blue, beautiful, just like Scabior's. The tension in the air was tangible.

"You couldn't put another sugar in this for me, could you?" Xavier asked, holding out his cup, a wry smile on his face. "Seems I'm not quite sweet enough."

The sugar caddy was on the counter behind Celestia. She was loathe to turn her back to him, but nodded, taking the cup. She immediately felt from the weight of it alone that it was empty. When she looked up at him from the empty ceramic, the expression on his face told her all she needed to know. The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile.

Quicker than Celestia would have thought possible, the wolf had lunged over the counter-top at her, throwing her back against the wall; in the seconds she had, Celestia grabbed hold of her own mug of tea and flung the burning contents in his face. He yelped and brought his hands up to shield himself, and in the moment it gave her the girl grabbed the handle of the kettle which quickly flared red, giving her a new series of blisters, and smashed the Wolf in the back of the head with the hefty metal appliance as quickly as she could. As he went down with a groan she grabbed the tea towel she had been using to dry the dishes and wrapped it around the handle of the longest knife, wrenching it from the rack. Her instinct was to run, not to fight, and she sprinted upstairs as quickly as she could with her weapon. She could hear the Wolf swearing behind her now, just getting to his feet from the blow; outside Jinx was going wild, the sound of his barking deafening, his claws scratching at the door. The song on the record player continued.

"Your eyes held a message tender...

Saying 'I surrender'..."

There was no way out of the house, not while the hex which prevented her from leaving was still on the place. Instead Celestia locked herself in the bathroom, knowing it was her only chance of keeping out of the Werewolf's grasp. She clung to the knife, the towel around it's handle protecting her from the burning Hex, knowing the narrow strip of steel might be the only thing between her life and death. If things went that far, she knew the Snatcher might kill her if he returned home to find she had killed his brother; still, it was better to be dead later than to be dead now. Chances were she'd be on the losing side of that battle anyway; her kitchen knife verses a famished Werewolf were not exactly good odds. She hoped she could hold out long enough for the Snatcher to return and intervene.

Celestia wished she had lied about being with Scabior. Xavier might have been a little more hesitant about eating his brother's jail-bait girlfriend rather than some hussy he'd found on the street who could be easily replaced. With the door locked, she moved quickly to the bathroom window; the daylight was almost completely gone. She had half an hour at a push before the full moon was glowing in the sky. Once it arrived, he could just tear the door down.

"No need to panic," Xavier called whimsically from outside the door; she could here him slowly crossing the landing, his nails trailing against the wallpaper. "If you don't kick up too much of a fuss you'll hardly feel a thing. I'm more of a savager than a ravager. Has he told you I'm a Werewolf?"

"He might have mentioned it," Celestia called, focused on prising the radiator cabinet from the wall with the knife so that she might have something to brace the door with.

"It'll be quick, I promise; I always go straight for the neck. You seem like a nice girl, and normally I'm sure we'd get on like a house on fire, but you're in a very bad place at a very bad time. I wouldn't usually go for a bite on the cusp of the transformation, but I'm always extra peckish at a Harvest Moon."

He'd stopped outside the door. Celestia pushed the dismounted cabinet up against it. The music from the record player had followed them upstairs, and was still merrily dancing on the air. Something clicked then; Celestia realised the thing she had forgotten.

It wasn't just a Werewolf out there. He was a Wizard.

...Oh, Shit.

"Alohomora!"

The door swung open. The Werewolf grinned.

Celestia didn't even have time to scream before the wolf had pushed past the radiator cabinet and lunged at her; She raised the knife high and aimed it at his throat, but his canine instincts were too quick and he very nearly snapped her wrist in the effort to wrestle her free of the gleaming weapon. He wrenched the knife from her loosened grip and grabbed her by the throat, his claws digging into her neck. With his superior strength he slammed her roughly up against the bathroom mirror, so hard the glass almost shattered; with a second thrust to stop her struggling, it did. The force of the blow turned Celestia into a ragdoll, knocking her near senseless, and she dropped in amongst the glass to the bathroom floor in a heap, her vision doubled by the head trauma, the fragments of glass making the whole world sparkle.

Her attacker dropped the knife into the bathroom sink; she could see the hilt of it peering over the edge, glittering teasingly. His wand was somewhere in the room, too, but her eyes wouldn't focus well enough for her to find it. If she could only get to one of them...

The wolf, Celestia realised, had been talking, though it was only now that she registered the noise as words.

"...And that's not even the half of it," he was saying, his boots crunching on glass as he bent down to Celestia's level and touched her hair. Celestia saw the crimson there and knew from the sight of it and the warmth of her scalp that she must be bleeding badly from her head. The wolf brought the red strands close to his face and breathed her in. His blue eyes danced across hers. Yet again, he reminded her terribly of his brother.

"Now, sweetheart, I'll give you some friendly advice; it hurts less if you don't fight."

His face spread into a hungry grin.

"But it's a lot more fun if you do."

So disoriented from the blow was Celestia that she hardly understood what was happening as he dragged her down, pinning her flat out on the cold flooring, shards of glass slipping their way under her skin.

"Good idea, coming up here," Xavier said, something yellow flashing in his eyes. There was a gruffness to his voice which hadn't been there before, and he was sitting on her hips, weighing her down. "Scabs has always been worse than a bloody woman when it comes to being house proud. We'll make a lot less mess up here on the linoleum than we would downstairs. It's a nightmare getting blood out of carpet."

He pulled off his leather overcoat and cast it into the bathtub, muttering something about keeping that clean of blood, too.

"What are you then, lovely- Halfblood? Mudblood? Muggle? I know Scabs has never been too picky when it comes to his women. Then again, neither have I; you all taste the same, even the precious Purebloods."

Celestia's bandaged hand scrambled weakly for a shard of broken glass, anything she might cut him with. Up close, she could see the dark burgundy stains on his near-black clothing. Xavier smiled down at her, his teeth beginning to take on a more sinister shape before her eyes, carving themselves into something carnal, something animal.

"Atta girl," he said, in an excitable whisper. She could hear the ticking of his watch right beside her ear. "That's it, you fight it..."

Celestia's fingers caught hold of a piece of glass. The Werewolf wrenched it from her wavering grip the moment she took hold of it.

"Good try," he said, tearing the neckline of her clothing to better get at her neck; Celestia tried for a scream as he bared down upon her, but it was barely a moan. The sharp fangs which had developed at the front of his mouth grazed hot against her skin. "but not good enough-"

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

Everything stopped but the music on the record player, which was jumping sporadically through the end of the song. The Werewolf looked over his shoulder to find his brother leaning against the door-frame, arms folded casually. Xavier grinned, holding out his hands welcomingly as though they were not covered in the young woman's blood.

"Scabs! Good to see ya!"

Scabior snapped his tongue, stepping forwards and ushering his little brother out of the way with a smack to the back of his head.

"Ow-!"

"Move, you muppet!"

Scabior grabbed Xavier by the back of his vest and wrenched him away from the girl.

"Blimey, Scabs, you smell like a brewery. Been drownin' our sorrows at the Cauldron, 'ave we?"

"Shut it," Scabior balked, kneeling down and moving the glass from around the girl with a gloved hand before pulling her up into a sitting position, her head resting back against the wall where the mirror had been. She was barely conscious.

"Celestia, love? You still with us?"

The Witch mumbled something under her breath. Her eyes were half-closed and unfocused.

"Awh, bloody hell, Xav. What have you done that for?!" Scabior barked, grabbing a towel from the radiator and pressing it against the girl's bleeding head. She soon slipped into unconsciousness.

"I was 'ungry," the younger brother said, "you know what I get like when I'm 'ungry. You might as well let me finish 'er off now, It'd be kinder at this point-"

"Pssh! You wish. It's a bump on the head, she's hardly at death's door. Help me get her into the bedroom."

"Fine, but only if I get to go first."

Scabior thumped him in the arm, hard. Xavier broke into a pocked laugh.

"Oh, come on, Scabs, have a heart. The moon'll be up in less than twenty minutes, I was just about to sink me teeth in-"

"She's not yours to eat!"

"Psshh! Alright tetchy! You never were any good at sharing your toys... you're really going to begrudge me some bit of skirt you grabbed at work?! Stuck here imprisoned with you, I bet if she wasn't out of her wits she'd be begging me to put 'er out of 'er misery!"

Boiling with anger, Scabior ripped the bandage off the unconscious girl's arm. The four deep claw marks flared a sickly red.

"See that? That's Fenrir Greyback's doing. She's marked. We've got an arrangement; once I've had my bit of fun with her I'll be giving her back to 'im to finish off. Do you really want to pick a fight with Greyback?!"

Xavier stared at the red gashes in the girl's flesh. Something like fear pulsed in his eyes. Without another word, he helped his brother in scooping the girl up and carrying her through to the master bedroom. They lay her on the bed and Scabior sat beside her, patching up her head, blotting away the blood. He reached into his pocket and took out a pot of Bruisewort balm, along with its receipt.

"Well that's lucky," Xavier quipped. After a moment he understood the implications.

"...Oh, I see. That's where you've been. Feeling guilty, are we? It's not like you to get all mushy."

"Don't you ever shut your mush?" Scabior said, rubbing the yellow paste over the abrasions on the girl's skin, and gently, very gently, on the bruises beneath her eye which has come at his own hand.

"Oh, I get it. When you keep her around for a bit of the other it's hardly as fun if she's all smashed up-"

"I said shut it. You've really bashed her up, you idiot."

Xavier grimaced. One foot was still tapping. He was still very much on edge, scraping out her blood from underneath his nails with his teeth.

"You know I get a little carried away when I'm proper 'ungry. It's alright for you, you don't know what it's like. Besides, she did hit me round the 'ead with a kettle, the mad mare."

Scabior chuckled. "Did she really? That's my girl."

Xavier watched the sleeping Witch with a frown. Part of him did feel a little sorry for what he'd done to her. That part of him was small. Mostly, he still just wanted to eat her. Her blood had a sweetness to it that he found appealing.

"Well, at least you turned up just in time to save her. That's quite a coincidence."

"It's not a coincidence, you bloody animal. I've got it set up so that if the dog's going mad with the barking my wand makes sure I know about it; decent enough way of keeping intruders at bay. Seems the only intruder I ever get is you."

"I ain't no intruder; it's my house, too, by rights. It's sacrilege, you bringing that mangy mutt in here, and I see you've been letting madam here sleep in my bed."

"What are you complaining for? You haven't spent a night here in years. You're too tall to fit in it now anyway."

"Hmm. I could smell myself on her, soon as she got close enough. Thought maybe I'd run into her before until I figured that much out. How long has she been here?"

"Couple of days. Caught 'er on the run with some lad."

"I take it said lad is no longer among the living. You'll be turning her in now, won't you, now that the Ministry's back open?"

"Of course," Scabior said, though not sincerely enough. Xavier frowned.

"See, brother, that's always been your problem. You let yourself get attached. Same with that old biddy next door."

"Mrs. Morrison used to patch up our knees when we fell off our bikes as kids, it's hardly surprising I've got a soft spot for 'er."

"See? That's exactly what I'm saying to you. Keep people around too long and you start seeing 'em as... well, people."

Scabior shook his head a little. "Sounds like I'm not the one with the problem. Speaking of problems, what's brought you here, anyway? I haven't seen you in months and suddenly here you are, trying to rip my company to shreds. What possessed you to come here tonight, of all nights?!"

"I know, I know, full moon and all that. But they've took my Apparition license and I didn't realise how long it'd take to get here on Muggle transport, and with the Ministry opened up again, I figured tonight was the only chance I'd have to catch 'ya. I was pretty sure you'd come back home with the Ministry out of action, and I just wanted to check in on you. And... I was just wondering if you could lend me some cash. Nothing much, just a few Galleons, to tide me over until I land back on my feet. It's not easy finding honest work in my condition, you know."

"It's even harder finding honest work if you never bloody look for any," Scabior muttered; it was a line he'd heard a thousand times before. Still, he went to the drawer in his bedside table and began cutting through the bag of Galleons he'd stolen from the girl's Grandfather. Xavier watched him eagerly.

"Blimey, Scabs, you could choke a dozen donkey's on that. Who did you snatch to get that sort of a payment, 'Arry Potter 'imself?!"

"Never you mind. 'Ere. 100 smackers. Should keep you off the breadline for a while."

Xavier beamed at the money, pocketing it and kissing his brother firmly on his stubbled cheek.

"Oh, you beauty. Thanks, big brother. Mum's smiling down, I bet, knowing that you're still looking out for me."

"Looking after you, more like."

Xavier ruffled his brother's hair, which was about as in need of further ruffling as a snake would be of roller skates. Scabior shoved him off, though not too harshly.

"You know, I've been thinking, why don't I join up with your team? The Snatching game's all well and good, but there's not much money to be made in it when you're by yourself. If I joined up with you and your boys-"

"Not gonna happen, sparky. I've already got enough on my shoulders with Greyback, the last thing I need is another erratic Werewolf quite literally eating into my profits. Now go on, you'd better be on your way. I'd say you've got ten minutes before the moon makes an appearance and you try biting my head off- and believe me, you won't get off so easily as you did with this little thing."

The two headed downstairs, and Scabior saw his brother off at the door. Before he left the house, Xavier pulled Scabior into a firm hug.

"See you soon, big brother."

Scabior tensed a little; Xavier nearly suffocated him in his grasp. The older brother still forgot at times that his younger sibling wasn't a kid anymore. Sometimes he couldn't help but treat him like one, even now. After a long moment, Scabior shrugged him off.

"I bloody well hope not. And you owe me a new mirror!"

Xavier was gone before the door could close, skulking across the street and disappearing into the treeline. As he went, the sounds of bones cracking could be heard. Even after so many years, the noise was enough to send a shiver up Scabior's spine.

Scabior sat beside Celestia on the bed again, pulling glass out of her hair and, after grabbing a pair of tweezers, out of her hands and bare arms. One particularly deep piece must have hurt quite terribly, as the moment he lodged it out the girl gave a sharp breath and opened her eyes wide.

Celestia sat up instantly, looking around in a panic, and Scabior caught her arms in his hands. She trashed a little more wildly for a moment before realising that the steely eyes staring into hers belonged to Scabior, not his brother. She let out an odd sort of sigh as her body relaxed a little.

"Hey, hey... you're alright, Veela. You're alright."

Celestia stared at him, not quite making sense of what had happened. Jinx was curled up at the end of the bed, laying over her feet.

"Your brother, the W-Werewolf..."

"He's gone."

"He t-tried to..."

"I know. Don't worry about it. He's gone."

Celestia looked around for quite some time, but finally believed him and settled a little. She touched the skin of her neck, where the wolf had grazed his teeth. Scabior raised his eyebrows.

"And you thought your family had problems."

"I can't... what happened?"

"Jinx set the alarms off; he's a bloody good dog. I got back 'ere soon as I could. Don't worry about Xavier, sent him on his way with his tail between his legs. I told you he's a terror when it's his time of the month."

The girl looked a little stunned, still not quite believing that she'd come through the ordeal relatively unscathed.

"He went for me, I had a knife but he... and you... you stopped him?"

She said it with surprise. She had closed her eyes again, leaning into the pillows, exhausted. Scabor stroked her hair back from her face; it left a bloody mark on his hand where he'd touched her.

"You wouldn't be here if I hadn't, would you? Besides, I won't get that 20 Galleons if you're in pieces."

Celestia smiled a little, although it wasn't a very funny joke... if it was a joke at all.

"Oh God, my head."

Scabior fetched her a glass of water and two painkillers, along with a weak spell to help alleviate the symptoms. Celestia took all that was offered gratefully.

"He let himself in," she tried to explain after a few minutes of quiet. Somehow Scabior's arm had come to a rest around her shoulders, but she didn't remove herself from his hold. The two lay back against the pillows, both plenty exhausted. "He was okay at first, seemed pretty normal, then the air changed and he just pounced. I saw it coming, managed to get away, but there was nowhere to go with your bloody stupid jinx on the place. He kept talking, sort of teasing me while he..."

Celestia ran out of words. She remembered the glass shattering, and the way he had torn her dress. Scabior filled the silence.

"He was probably trying to frighten you. People taste better when they're scared, that's the idea the Werewolf community have gotten into their heads. Greyback says the same. Something to do with adrenaline, they reckon, but they're not bloody scientists. I think they just like scaring people. Xav has always liked the sound of his own voice. I suppose that much runs in the family."

There was a long pause before Celestia said anything else.

"Thank you for not letting him eat me."

"Well," Scabior said, squeezing her shoulder a little awkwardly. "what else are friends for."

Celestia had little interest now in being awake. She leaned into him, almost snuggled up, her face partially buried in his chest. Scabior decided that she must have hit her head harder than he'd thought, but rested his head atop hers all the same as she fell asleep.