THC Monthly Challenge, July;
Story Prompt; They lived alone, so they were alarmed to see flowers and a sweating glass of champagne on the table when they arrived home.
Prompt; (dialogue) "I'm glad to see you here! How have you been?"
Word Count; 4,785
They lived alone, so they were alarmed to see flowers and a sweating glass of champagne on the table when they arrived home.
"Did you leave that there?" Brian murmured, skirting around the edge of the table and picking up the glass. His legs were aching, blood still seeping from the deep gash in his side. He didn't have the energy to deal with Jacob's ridiculous pranks, not this soon after a full moon.
"I'm hardly propositioning you; you leave the lid off the toothpaste," Jacob muttered. He brushed impatiently past Brian and stalked to the back of their worn down hovel, towards the decrepit corner they had labelled 'The Bathroom', though it was little more than a bucket of water surrounded by a moth-eaten towel.
Their whole abode was a run-down shack they had fortunately stumbled across. Hidden deep in the Pennine Hills, it was far enough away from civilisation that no unfortunate hiker was likely to stumble across them.
Not again, anyway. Brian wouldn't be that careless again.
Still, it had a roof with only a few leaks, a fireplace for warmth and cooking, and not that much mold (if they were being honest). Even some shelves that could hold at least two tin cans before the wood began to crumple and tilt beneath the weight.
What more could two werewolves ask for?
Though the decrepit-ness of their shack merely highlighted the oddness of the fresh flowers and champagne set out of the table before them (already poured into three unchipped glasses that they definitely didn't own).
"Jacob—"
"I'm taking a piss." Jacob's voice was an almost predator growl, as though the wolf still hadn't fully left his system yet.
Brian scowled but didn't reply. He stared at the flowers, propped upright in a fourth glass they definitely didn't own, an inch of water at the bottom to keep them fresh. They smelled… inviting. Brian couldn't put his finger on it. He knew nothing about plants, perhaps the knowledge was buried somewhere in his mind from a potions class long ago, but a lot had happened since then. Knowing his barberrys from his begonia's wasn't an important enough skill to keep with him.
There were many flowers in the vase though. Something daisy like, with white petals. A pink flower with a tall stem, a stiff one with a bush of white flowers at its head. And the last one, a cone of blue flowers that fell like bells around a drooping stem. It was beautiful, peaceful. Brian couldn't take his eyes off them, the petals swaying softly in the thin breeze that floated through the broken window.
"Don't touch it!" Jacobs' hand latched around his in an iron grip, sharp nails digging into his wrist as he yanked his hand back from where it had been, inches away from the flower. "It's aconite, don't touch it."
Brian's eyes widened in shock, drawing his hand close to his chest. "Wolfsbane? Why would someone leave that here?"
A low snarl fell from between Jacob's yellowing teeth, his eyes darting around the shack but seeing nothing.
"I don't smell anything," Brian murmured quietly, following Jacob's eyes. Brian racked his brain trying to recall the events of last night's full moon. Had they seen anybody else? Spotted anything unusual? The memories were murky at best, a rush of trees, the soft feel of the undergrowth, nothing out of the ordinary. Brian hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary on their walk back to the shack either, though he had been too focussed on the deep cut that was still aching in his side. Their moons here had always been peaceful, no one had found them yet.
Until now, apparently.
"Stay here," Jacob growled. Brian obeyed, staying standing by the table while Jacob slunk towards the door. He was older than Brian, moreso in wolf than human years. Sometimes, Brian thought that the wolf never really left Jacob at all anymore, that he always lived balanced on the edge of human and animal. A feral man with wild hair, sharp eyes and pointed teeth. It was a wonder what being forced to the edges of society could do to you, and no wonder Jacob stuck to living on it.
Brian had often wondered how long it would take for him to turn as feral as Jacob. He hadn't been a werewolf that long, thirty eight moons now, as of last night (he couldn't help but morbidly keep track). He had tried to separate himself from the wolf, stand straight, ignore the heightened senses, the tug of instincts in his gut telling him to run, fight, growl when people came near. Though sometimes, he failed to see the point of keeping human pretenses.
It wasn't like 'acting human' would cure him, make people accept him. Who was he pretending for?
A loud shout jolted him from his thoughts. A snarl and a tousle followed by a crash of something heavy being thrown into the side of the building. Brian flinched as the thin walls of their shack quaked under the impact. There was a small voice between the growls but Brian couldn't make out the words.
Another thump, a yelp of pain. And silence.
o0o0o
Brian scrambled back into the table, knocking one of the champagne glasses over in his haste. The glass skittered over the table, sending little shards tumbling to the floor but he paid them no heed.
Jacob marched through the door, stone faced and eyes blazing. His hands were clasped around the shirt of a limp figure, dragging him forcefully over the threshold by the scruff of his neck. He dropped him at the base of the table and stood back.
The figure groaned, curling up on himself as he tried to drag himself to his feet. Jacob kicked him ruthlessly in the stomach and the figure dropped back down to his elbows, spluttering weakly.
"Found him in the hedges down the back," Jacob snarled, pacing restlessly in front of the figure. "Hiding, like the bloody coward he is. Had this on him too."
Jacob thrust something into Brian's hands. Brian recognized it at once. "A wand? He's a wizard, how did he find us?"
"Oh, he's more than that. Smell him."
Brian looked confused but leant down, breathing in the scent of the man and wincing as the werewolf instincts kicked in. The man smelled familiar. Oddly familiar, especially since he was a wizard and should be reeking of civilization. Instead, he barely smelled of anything, no different to the scents that permeated their hovel of a shack.
Something deep and instinctive tugged in Brian's gut. "He's a werewolf," he said, staring down at the man. He could see it now, skin marred with scars and stretched thin over bones that seemed ready to pierce through to the surface. His eyes were stained with bruises that looked as though they never faded. His hair was limp and plastered to his forehead and Brian thought he could smell the faint scent of blood on his clothes, scars from the full moon only a few hours before.
It was like looking into a mirror.
Jacob snorted. "A werewolf he is. One with a wand too. Domesticated little house pet," he spat out the words as though they were venom.
Brian twirled the wand in his hands. It had been years since he held one, it felt odd between his fingers, foreign and heavy.
His had broken years before, though long after it had stopped working for him. "The wand chooses the wizard", or so the saying went. Brian didn't know if it was the lycanthropy that caused his wand to change its mind, (he was no longer a wizard after all), but regardless, soon after he was bitten his wand had become less and less responsive. Feeling more like a weight on his soul than an extension on it. Perhaps he should have gone back to Ollivanders, requested a new wand to choose his new lycanthropic persona.
But who would sell a wand to a werewolf? It was easier to learn wandless magic, something he could almost do with ease now. Another step away from wizard kind.
"Don't break it," said the man on the floor, his voice scratchy and dry. "Please…" The stranger began to once again, hauling himself from the floor and onto his knees.
Beside him, Jacob snorted and came to stand in front of the man, towering over him and blocking most of the light from the window. The man flinched, expecting another blow.
"Why are you here?" Jacob growled, staring down at him.
"Help," the man said. He leaned around Jacob and looked up, meeting Brian's eye's with a fervent intensity. Brian couldn't help stare back. He looked so desperate.
"To help us?" he asked, but Jacob interrupted with a loud cackle.
"Nah. He wants us to help him, isn't that right?" Jacob stared down at the man, a dark shadow crossing across his face. "I've heard about your silly little war. You think I'm stupid, boy?"
"I'm not with Voldemort," the man whispered quietly.
Jacob laughed. "Then you're even more stupid than you look." He turned, pacing backwards to the table. He frowned again the glasses of champagne before grabbing it, downing one of the glasses and turning to fire it into the wall. The glass exploded in a shower of smithereens that scattered around them as the shards hit the floor.
There was a tense silence. Brian tried to keep his eyes on both men at once, but it was near impossible. The kneeling man stayed down, sitting back on his heels and looking around the room anxiously. Jacob was pacing furiously, almost shaking with anger. Brian had never seen him this frustrated.
"I came to help, and to ask for it. Both, really," the man moved to get up but sank back onto his heels, his hands raised in surrender when Jacob fixed him with a fierce glare.
"I saw your help." Jacob waved his hand to the pot of flowers on the table. "Chamomile, yarrow, echinacea. What? Thought we'd be too stupid to notice the bloody wolfsbane hidden amongst the healing herbs?"
The man winced but sat up, meeting Jacobs' eyes. That was a brave move in itself, Brian thought, even he wouldn't dare cross Jacob like this. It was taking all his resolve to stand still and not flee out of the room.
"I didn't think that," the man replied quietly. "Aconite can help. When prepared correctly it can smoothen the side effects of一"
"And when prepared incorrectly it can bloody kill us!" Jacob all but yelled back. He gestured to Brian keeping his eyes fixed on the man. "The kid almost went and touched it!"
"Hey!" Brian shot at Jacob. He rolled his shoulders and tried to stand up straighter under Jacob's dark glare. "I'm not a kid."
He held Jacobs' gaze, refusing to drop it. Jacob might have a few leagues on him in werewolf years but in human years there was barely a decade between them, he didn't appreciate being called a child.
Jacob scowled but nodded quietly, and Brian tried to hide his smile of triumph. He turned his attention back to the man.
"What's your name?" Brian asked, trying to keep his voice strong and stern.
"Lupin," the man replied. "Remus Lupin."
Jacob's eyebrow disappeared into his hairline. "You're joking?"
The man一Lupin一smirked and ducked his head. "I also go by John."
"I'll stick with Lupin," Jacob replied. "There's something gloriously delicious about the irony."
Lupin smiled and looked up at Brian. "I'm sorry, about the aconite. I didn't intend to hurt anyone." He looked towards the flowers on the table. "Can I?" he asked, looking back at Jacob.
Jacob paused for a moment, then nodded silently. Lupin rose slowly to his feet and took the flowers from the vase.
"This is chamomile. You can brew it into a tea, helps to fall asleep and ease nausea, useful after a transformation." He put down the daisy-looking flower and picked up the one with pink petals. "Echinacea is good for fevers, digestive issues. You can seep it into an oil. And this one, with the large white head is yarrow. It acts as a disinfectant. It'll help heal that wound on your side. If I may一"
Lupin held his hand out gingerly, eyeing his wand that was still clasped tightly in Brian's hand.
"We'll be keeping that," Jacob interrupted sharply. Brian jumped and yanked his hand away. "You can have it once you've said your piece and left us be. Like you said, little wolf, there's a war out there. Can't be too careful"
A shadow crossed Lupin's face but slid off quickly, replaced by a look of calm patience. "Fair enough."
Jacob pulled out one of the rickety chairs from the table and sank into it, motioning for Brian and Lupin to do the same. "Besides", he said, waving his hand behind him. A tin of beans floated from the shelf and onto the table, "we don't use wands here."
Jacob pushed the tin towards Brian with a knowing look. Abandoning the wand on his lap, Brian took the tin in his hands and focussed on it. He didn't need an incantation, just a will, a desperate desire to want the tin to heat up. He felt the familiar tingle rush through his fingers, seeping from his chest, down his arms and into the palms of his hands. With a minute, the tin was hot, and Brian's heart was racing from the feeling of pure, unbridled magic. It was a rush he had never felt back when he had used a wand. It was harder to do but so much more exhilarating, to feel the magic prickle under your skin, as though it truly was a part of you.
He looked up, grinning at Lupin's wide eyes.
"Impressive," Lupin murmured, gracefully accepting the small morsel of a meal that Jacob dished out to him.
Jacob grunted and turned his head to his own meal. There was silence after that. Nothing but the soft sound of chewing and the cool breeze whistling through the slats of the shack. Brian kept glancing at his two dinner companions, trying to work out the story without having to ask about it.
Brian hadn't been around other wizards in almost half a decade. He had heard rumours of this Voldemort, as Lupin had named him, but he had been nothing more of an upstart. A sly-toothed politician spouting promises of change and pride for their country. Nothing new, he had thought, just another loudmouth trying to get a foot into the door and a name onto a ballot sheet. After his Lycanthropy, Brian had been pushed so far to the side that the local politics which dominated the news never filtered his way. Not that it would have mattered, as if anyone would be campaigning for his rights.
He hadn't heard of any war though. Blimey, he leaves the wizarding world for five minutes and shit hits the proverbial fan. What on earth was going on?
"Who's this Voldemort chap then anyway?" Brian asked, breaking the silence. Lupin flinched, a few beans falling carelessly into his lap. Jacob chuckled.
Lupin sat up straight, cleaning down the spilled beans. "A politician, he managed to get into power last year. He's…" Lupin grimaced, chewing his lips trying to find the right words. "He's been garnering interest within some powerful circles."
Jacob shifted in his seat, staring at his food and stabbing it with an undeserved harshness. Brian ignored him. "Powerful circles?"
"Certain families. Names within the ministry that would hold a lot of influence. He has certain policies which they seem to favour."
"Favour some of the less influential folk too, so I hear," Jacob muttered quietly. But Lupin heard, his head snapping around to glare at him.
"He wants to rid the wizarding world of muggleborns. What do you think he'll do to us?"
"Oh, I don't know. Shun them from society? Force them to live in a shack in the middle of the mountains, miles from civilization?"
Lupin flinched. "That's different. You chose to live一"
"Choose, did we? Oh, I apologise, I didn't realise I had a say on being mauled half to death by a beast."
"That's not一"
"Yeah, not what you meant. But that one thought leads to the other; so what's the difference, really?"
Jacob stood up, grabbing his plate and stalking out the door, letting a gust of cold air whoosh into the room.
Lupin sighed heavily once Jacob was out of sight. He put his elbows onto the table which groaned under its weight and let out a groan of his own. "I'm not very good at this," he muttered into his hands.
Brian smiled, still not really knowing what 'this' was. It felt like Lupin was here trying to sell him pamphlets for a new All-Purpose cleaning product. But it also felt like he was trying to recruit him for a war.
Neither of which felt appealing.
"Don't worry about Jacob," he said carefully. "He's always tetchy after a full moon. He doesn't mean anything by it. He just wants to keep himself safe. Me too."
"Are you? Safe, I mean?" Lupin glanced around the dilapidated shack, the broken windows, torn up furniture, moldy curtain hanging around the toilet block.
Brian sighed. "I am, we are. He's kept me out of trouble. I had a close call, back when I first turned. It was only my fourth or fifth moon. I didn't know what I was doing. The Ministry was of no help. I'd gone to them the first few times but the cells they put you in…" Brian trailed off, trying not to think of the tiny, windowless cupboard the Ministry used for 'Werewolf Containment'. It was barely wide enough for him to stand arms outstretched as a human, as a wolf it had been simply inhumane, unbearably so.
Lupin was nodding darkly beside him. Brian continued. "Anyway, three months of that and I broke. Couldn't force myself to do it anymore. So I Apparated to the country, some wilderness in the back-arse of the Cotswolds. I thought I was buried far enough from everything but, guess I didn't realise how far werewolves could travel in a single night."
Lupin looked up at him, his skin pale. Brian could see the question on the tip of his tongue. He answered it before Lupin could give it voice.
"There was a camp, some muggle caravans near a beach. It must have been towards the end of the night because I don't remember much. Just the smell. Thick, sweet iron and meat. Humans. I woke up on the sand, riddled with bullet holes. The caravans were gone and I was bleeding out. Thought I was going to die. I've no idea how Jacob found me. He must have smelled me in the night and followed but he was there when I woke up. Scared me half to death with his bloody feral eyes and claws, but he grabbed me all the same. Apparated me God knows where before the Ministry could find me. Patched me up and we've stuck together since. Company, you know, it helps.
Lupin took a deep breath and smiled at him. "I'm glad you have him. Company does help."
"How many moons have you done?"
Lupin laughed. "I lost count. 218 I think? I was bitten when I was four."
Brian let out a slow wolf whistle. "When you were four? Wolfy McWolfman, the world has not dealt you a good set of cards, has it?"
"It's been well enough," Lupin said quietly. "I've been lucky, especially the last few years. I've been given chances not many others get." He eyed his wand, still sitting on Brian's lap.
Brian picked it up cautiously, ignoring how Lupin's fingers seemed to twitch towards it. "Mine stopped working for me, after I turned. How come yours didn't?"
Lupin shrugged. "I was already a werewolf when it chose me, I guess. But it proves that werewolves deserve them, we've as much a right to a wand as anyone else."
Brian turned the wand over in his hand. He missed his, he hadn't thought much about his own cherry wood wand in a long time but having one in his hand again, talking to Lupin, it made the memories of his old life tumble back into his mind. He set the wand back down and shook the thoughts from his head.
"Why are you here, Remus Lupin?"
Lupin sighed. He shifted in his chair, turning it so his entire focus was on Brian. Brian sat back, and watched the man take a steady breath and speak the words as though he had practiced them a hundred times over.
"Voldemort, this new Lord as he's calling himself, wants to try and 'purify' the wizarding world. He's preaching about change, a new world for magic. He's been recruiting people, purebloods mostly, from powerful families who are tired of the message that we are all equals and stronger together. But there's been rumours spreading that he's targeting Dark Creatures, people like us to join his side. He's promising that he'll make the world better for them. But he won't, Voldemort doesn't believe muggleborns or half-bloods deserve a place in his 'new world', where does that leave us, the non-humans?"
"So what do you want us to do?"
"Fight," Lupin said, softly. "Fight with us, against Voldemort. There's already been attacks against muggleborns, it'll only get worse if we don't stand up to him."
"And what have the muggleborns ever done for us?" The husky voice drifted in from the doorway where Jacob stood, leaning against its rickety frame, arms crossed and a fierce scowl marring his face. "What's in it for us, if we stand up to him?"
Lupin twisted in his seat. "If Voldemort wins, he'll wipe out half the magical community," he said desperately.
"So you said," Jacob replied calmly. "But what's in it for us, our kind, if we win?"
Lupin sat still, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Brian looked between the two, confused. Jacob snarled.
"You think this is the first time there's been some upstart wanker preaching about 'Blood Purity', boy? I was there for Grindlewald's war. Fought in it, like a good little soldier. Thought I was doing the right thing, just like you." Jacob moved from the doorframe and stalked back over to the table, landing heavily in his chair. "Here I was, fighting for muggleborns and half-breeds and all other manner of whatever the hell those bastards preached in their pretty speeches. And d'you know what happened?"
Jacob leaned back, yanking up the edge of his shirt to reveal four enormous, jagged stripes stretching down the centre of his torso, ending in a scar that Brian was all too familiar with. And judging by the look on Lupin's face, he too was able to recognise a werewolf bite.
"Bit by the bastard I was fighting to protect. And when I got back to England, after all the help I gave them, do you think they offered me any help? Any retributions or condolences for my suffering?" Jacob's laugh was dark.
"Course not. There was no 'I'm glad to see you here! How have you been?'. There wasn't even a 'hello'. Just scowls and flinches and hisses of 'we don't allow your kind here'. No one would hire me to work, would let me rent a place to sleep. I ended up kipping outside on benches and eating out of dustbins. I was a war veteran of their wars but not fit to eat their scraps."
Jacob looked up at Lupin, meeting him square in the eyes.
"So tell me, Lupin, how will this war be any different? Who's rights am I fighting to protect here? Because I sure ain't got no rights worth fighting for."
Lupin sat firm in his chair. His eyes were fixed on Jacob's but Brian could see he was panicking. One of his hands rested on his hip, gripping the skin firmly with white knuckles. "He'll destroy the wizarding world," Lupin said through gritted teeth. "He'll kill anyone who doesn't fit into his society. People will die, people are dying."
Jacob stood up, holding his arms out wide and gesturing to the crumbling shack around them; the leaking roof, the broken windows, the threadbare blankets strewn across damp mattresses. "How is that any different from what we have already?"
He took two steps forward and held out his hand. Lupin's wand flew from Brian's lap, silently summoned into Jacob's hand. Jacob twirled it between his own thick fingers, his yellow fingernails, sharp and pointed like a wolf's claws traced over the curves in the wood.
Jacob studied it silently for a moment, his eyes skimming over the polished handle, the board edges. He toyed with it between his fingers until suddenly he grabbed it firmly between both hands and held it out, as if to snap it in two.
"No!"
There was a crash and Jacob was sent flying backwards, crashing hard into the wall so much that the wood cracked beneath him, sending a whistle of freezing air rushing into the room.
Brian leapt from his seat in shock and stared up to see Lupin, standing on two feet, the table knocked to the side and his empty hand outstretched in front of him. The flowers and champagne were strewn across the floor beneath them.
Magic crackled between Lupin's fingers, sparking through the air. The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight as though he had been electrocuted. He was staring wide-eyed at his hands as though he felt the same.
Jacob laughed, pushing himself up and wiping the thin trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "Not bad," he said, pulling himself to his feet and moving towards Lupin who was still frozen in place. Jacob put his hand on Lupin's shoulder. Lupin jerked away in panic, meeting Brian's eyes with a look of fear that made the man look almost ten years younger, like a kid barely out of school.
"You're worth nothing to them. They'll dress you in their clothes, give you their fun toys, but in the end, once they're done with you, they'll forget about what they owe you before you're even out the door."
Jacob thrust Lupin's unbroken wand into his hands. "I already sacrificed my best years for wizards. I'm not giving them the few scraps of life they left for me. You should think about doing the same."
Lupin was still staring at his wand, holding it carefully between trembling fingers. Brian could see that Lupin was shaking, his arms and hands almost vibrating with either fear or adrenaline or a mixture of both.
"I should go." Lupin's voice was so quiet, it was only thanks to Brian's heightened senses that he heard it at all. "Than一Thank you." His voice was shaking.
Jacobs grip tightened on Lupin's shoulder. Lupin looked up in a panic but Jacob's voice was firm. "You know where to find us."
Lupin swallowed, and nodded shortly. Then he turned and left, without another word.
o0o0o
The room was a mess, broken glasses, the smell of champagne, the flowers strewn and broken amidst the carnage. Jacob took a slow breath in, then turned and began upturning the table that had been cast aside by Lupin's wandless magic.
That had been a shock. Brian had never done anything that powerful, that violent. Jacob was a big man and Lupin had thrown him halfway across the room like a ragdoll. It was terrifying.
"Do you think he'll be back?" Brian asked, pulling himself up and going to inspect the hole in the wall left by Jacobs' wide backside. They should be able to mend it, another few planks here and a couple of nails there. They'd fixed worse.
Jacob huffed, carefully retrieving the aconite from where it had slid beneath one of the chairs. "I don't know," he said, carefully studying the plant between his pinched claws. "Perhaps. When the world forgets about him."
He studied the flower for a moment longer, then slowly crushed it between his claw-like fingers. The bluebell flowers ground to a powder between his fingers. Brian felt the dust scratched his eyes and burned the hair of his nostrils. The smell turned from sweet and floral to cold and metallic. Like silver.
Jacob let the offering drop to the floor with a scowl.
"They forget about us all, eventually."