Six days after Fae had woken up in an entirely new world, she walked into the Ministry of Magic with Fleamont and Euphemia Potter as a Jane Doe. A few hours later, she walked out as Fae Potter, born on October 1st of 1960, a registered werewolf.
They took the floo to the Ministry and that was a whole experience, but also kind of unremarkable. It wasn't a new thing to her visually, so she wasn't nervous and articulated her destination just fine. The green flames felt more like a strong breeze than anything. Still, it was really cool. She had just traveled through the Floo Network and it was stuff like that which reminded her exactly where she was. Fleamont and Euphemia kept Fae between them as they walked through the halls of the Ministry which was buzzing with people. It made Fae a little nostalgic - she missed her own office job, although her building had been naturally bright, colorful, and cheerful.
She had to say, however, that the Ministry was efficient. They got guest passes quite quickly and barely had to wait before being shuffled to their first appointment which was confirming that she had no current identification and was not recognizable from any missing persons' reports. The second appointment was to officially give her a legal identity and adopt her. Fae had a lot of mixed feelings about that one, but attributed her over emotional-ness to the lack of sleep from the night before. Fae smiled brightly when she confirmed her name and signed the parchment, writing out her new signature on an official document for the first time. Euphemia nodded and checked that step off her list while Fleamont messed up her hair as best he could and gave her a one-armed hug.
The third appointment was the worst one. Alastor Moody met them. He gave Euphemia and Fleamont an intense stare and then inspected Fae thoroughly before shrugging and getting on with it.
"Well, if you're sure," he said gruffly as he led them to the elevators and down an alarming amount of floors into the building. Fae frowned. The lower you went in the Ministry, the more important, and likely more dangerous, it was. The general sign hanging from the ceiling in the dimly lit hallway outside the elevator said 'Regulation of Magical Creatures: Beast Division' and Moody gave her a pitying look before leading them to a door marked 'Werewolf Registry'. Euphemia's hand found her's and squeezed tightly. Fae thought seriously about asking them to wait outside since she had a feeling that this was not going to be pleasant. She didn't like people seeing her in pain or moments of weakness, but she knew it would only bond them to her more if she were to let them be there for her.
They walked in and the woman behind the desk, Ms. Halsey, asked her a series of clipped questions. Fae appreciated her clinical nature. Not cold, not cruel, just doing her job efficiently. She conveyed as best she could when she had been bitten, what the werewolf had looked like, any side effects she may have had since, how she reacted to the bite, how it was treated, if she had been in contact with the werewolf or any werewolf before or after, and so on. Fae signed her new name on an official document for the second time, then the woman asked Fleamont and Euphemia some questions. Apparently, they were prepared to house her during transformations. Or at least, had made plans to do so by emptying out the attic and warding it tightly. Moody backed them up and volunteered to check in and cast the wards himself, at least for the first few months to make sure it was definitely secure.
After that, they had all signed their names, consenting to being responsible for her and her transformations until she was of age and honor-bound to report any occurrences. With the paperwork done, the registry mark came next. Moody and Fleamont stayed behind while Ms. Halsey and Euphemia followed her to a small medical room. Fae was asked to remove her shirt and then sit on what looked like a cushioned chair with the back slightly tilted so she could lean over it, display her back, and brace herself.
Werewolves were registered by having an aconite laced mark burned into the space between their shoulder blades, just under the nape of the neck. The mark was a series of four numbers following a crescent moon, altogether about the size of a credit card. Her number was 0752 and honestly, she wasn't mad about it. Already she was kind of curious if she could attach tattoo ink to it without breaking a rule or messing it up. Maybe coloring it in and then adding some shooting stars and constellations around it, and some wolfsbane flowers beneath it. She was surprised it was in a location that wasn't too hard to conceal.
Euphemia gently moved her hair out of the way and combed her fingers through it comfortingly. She was doing that soft cooing thing again that she had done when they'd poured dittany and silver over the initial wound. Man, that had hurt like a mother.
"Alright, I'm going to start on the count of 3," Ms. Halsey said. "1. 2." And then she just went for it. Fae was kind of hoping she'd go for that approach. It lasted probably three minutes and Fae only screamed for about 20 seconds of it before she was gritting her teeth, clenching her eyes shut, and inhaling very deeply through her nose. Euphemia was saying sweet nonsense like 'good girl, 'you're doing so well', 'that's a love'. It was nice, but not anything to be able to concentrate on and she wished she had thought about asking for a story or something before.
"You're going to feel some discomfort and pain for a day or two. If it persists or hurts too much, come back in so we can look at it," Ms. Halsey said as she laid a bandage over it. It was a good bandage, covering the burning mark completely and not stretching too tight or feeling too loose anywhere. Probably a sticking charm. After that, they were good to go and Fae let Euphemia lead her in a daze back out to the main floor. It wasn't as bad as a blood test, in her opinion, but different and the pain was noticeable on her back no matter what she did.
Euphemia and Fleamont must've prepared for this because they led her into a cab and smiled cheerfully at her. They had a surprise for her, they said.
Out of it as she was, there was no way she couldn't snap out of it when they exited the cab in front of a building called the Leaky Cauldron. They did the whole song and dance - people saying hello as they walked through the back and the secret taps and the moving bricks. Diagon Alley was awesome and breathtaking and indescribable. If she'd been truly having a bad time of it, the bright, busy, stacked street would've easily overloaded her senses and sent her into an anxiety attack. As it was, with her new adoptive parents and pride at having handled the morning so well, she just felt thrill.
"You need some things if you're going to be living with us from now on and we figured you might want to pick them out yourself," Fleamont said.
"This is incredible," was all Fae managed to get out, eyes flitting here and there. She could smell fresh baked bread and see broomsticks over in that display and the beautiful witch walking over there was in gorgeous long robes of bright emerald and had a trail of floating boutique bags following her.
"We'll have to get some proper robes and dresses for you. You must be sick of wearing James' clothes," Euphemia said, excitement tingeing her voice in that kind of way where Fae just knew she was about to become a bit of a dress up doll. Fae absolutely abhorred doing that for her mother, but for Euphemia, she'd do just about anything right now, especially since they were paying. However, she made sure to clarify something first.
"Skirts and dresses would be great! But really, I don't mind wearing James' old clothes all that much if you don't mind me getting them messy or anything," Fae said. She wasn't a fan of the button-up polos and by their much tidier condition compared to the comfy t-shirts she usually wore, James had the same preference. The shorts she had been wearing were usually knee-length, made of cotton, had great pockets, and were nice and loose. She preferred t-shirts, tank tops, and yoga pants, but she wore shorts plenty too. James' old shorts were a little longer than she liked, but worth it for the pockets and availability.
"I like to exercise and go running a lot, so his old clothes would be great for that," Fae explained. She and Fleamont shared a smile. Really, she couldn't keep running at night. Exciting as it was, it was messing up her sleep schedule and she missed running in the mornings and afternoons. She missed her old routine.
Euphemia looked like she wanted to argue, but at the shared glance between Fae and Fleamont, she relaxed and nodded. "Right then. I'm fine with it, and I'm sure James won't care. He hasn't fit into those in years anyways," she said, and then began her march down Diagon Alley.
Shopping with people was actually something Fae hated. She was particular and didn't like people suggesting things for her based on their preferences or their perceptions of her. She was more efficient on her own too. But, again, Euphemia and Fleamont were buying her everything and after six days with them, she knew they wouldn't dream of her paying them back, not that she cared enough to or had the means. She had a feeling it would be fun shopping with them anyways.
To her delight, Euphemia attacked shopping like she did everything else - with a precision and bullheadedness which would've made her a great war commander. Fae could've sworn she was the living, breathing, walking definition of 'battle plan'. At the first shop, not dissimilar to maybe a target but think super magical and more on a local size, Fae and Fleamont were immediately lured in by the shelves of random items marked clearance. Seemingly seconds passed before Euphemia reappeared with an armful of clothes to push her into a changing room.
Fae was massively relieved that Euphemia had good instincts regarding Fae's taste. The first few dresses and skirts were a little too decorated, frilly, and poofy. Fae tried to make it seem like she liked it at first, but Euphemia wasn't having it. So she was honest and Euphemia quickly made changes based on it. It was probably one of the best shopping experiences she'd ever had and Fleamont, between his wandering and waiting in the store, whispered to Fae about how Euphemia used to work in a boutique when she was young. She had been an adorable, helpful young lady in an apron and pigtails and little high heels, he said with a sigh. Euphemia threw some of the clothes she and Fae had approved onto him with a scoff.
"And you were a miserable, stalking loser, hanging around the outside day in and day out, as I recall. And I wasn't that cute."
They were in and out under an hour with four skirts, five blouses, a nice set of robes, three summer dresses, a slightly nicer dress, a few cardigans and sweaters, and, thanks to Fleamont, a cool pair of sunglasses and a nice hat. He'd suggested a jacket for her too, but Fae was quite happy with the jacket he'd handed her the night before, thank you very much. It was baggy, well-used, and fell past her butt which was just the way she liked it.
After clothes shopping, they stopped by another little shop, more similar to a grocery. Basic items were collected here - toothbrushes and body wash and the like. Fae was all too happy to agree cheerfully to all of Euphemia's suggestions for hair products and items. Especially the scrunchies and the butterfly jeweled clips. When it came to make-up, Fae eyed the displays curiously and cautiously. Make-up was expensive no matter what world and she'd never justified the expense for herself on account of never knowing how to apply it nicely enough. However, she'd always wanted to learn and if she wasn't paying for it, well hey. Euphemia simply glowed when Fae agreed to get some, and asked if she could teach her how to use it. To be fair, at least that was pretty in character for a supposed 14-year-old.
After that, the three got lunch at a cafe. Fae looked at the menu and the display case hungrily. Probably ravenously. And Euphemia was eying the pastry case just as beadily. They both looked at Fleamont, Fae with a shy smile and Euphemia with a sly one and waggling eyebrows. He sighed and pulled out his wallet. "Go on then, get whatever you want."
Fae polished off a grilled cheese, tomato soup, a plate of fish and chips, two hot chocolates, and a rather large slice of lemon cake. Euphemia had a turkey sandwich, a slice of chocolate cake, a set of three caramel bon bons, some raspberry macarons, a lime chili chocolate cupcake, and an orange coffee opera cake. With tea of course. Fleamont ordered himself a hearty pastrami club sandwich and contented himself with finishing off Euphemia's leftovers because the woman had a terrible habit of eating a few bites, losing interest, and then moving onto the next item to sample it. It was kind of horrifying, but meant more for Fae and Fleamont.
Next was the bookshop. It was the Flourish and Blotts, which took longer than their previous three visits combined. Fae couldn't contain herself in this one and disa ppeared in seconds after crossing the entryway, flitting to the displays of notebooks, the bestseller shelves, the upstairs to see the towering shelves of fiction stories and spellbooks and cookbooks. Euphemia reeled her back in with a progress report on how quickly she'd devoured the materials Euphemia had gathered for her in the previous days, followed by a quick rundown of what they would be needing next. Clearly, Fae would be needing tons of books to catch up, and sure there were plenty of James' books and materials from the primary school and the library that she could use, but some things were essential and absolutely had to be gotten here. She rattled off a list out loud that Fae had no clue about, but it sounded exciting. A store attendant came up to them and was quickly used as a saddle horse for Euphemia to pile all the absolutely necessary books on. Fae wanted to remind her that she had mentioned a library, but also she liked having things, so instead she just profusely thanked the attendant and made polite conversation.
Halfway through that, Fleamont appeared and dragged her away to a corner of the store that was two shelves and a fancy display case completely filled with pens and quills. "Get a load of these!" he said excitedly, nose almost smushed against the glass as he looked at the most expensive, gold plated ones. It reminded Fae of Harry wanting a solid gold cauldron on his own first visit to Diagon Alley. It must run in the family. As for herself, she was enchanted with the more simple-looking, yet elegant pens with solid caps that glided across the test pages like butter, creating thick dark lines. And then she saw the set of leather bound notebooks next to the pens.
When Euphemia found them some time later, both Fae and Fleamont were laden with armfuls of pens in boxes, notebooks, planners, stationary sets, and sketchbooks. Euphemia's attendant had become two, both with books to the ceiling. She was sure that they had all gotten carried away and that Euphemia was going to yell at Fleamont for having all these pens he never used and that Fleamont was going to yell at Euphemia for having all these books they could just borrow from the library, and Fae braced herself for it with a cold feeling. But instead, they laughed and smiled, before heading to check out and paying a delivery fee for all of it.
There was some bickering, because it was Euphemia and Fleamont, but it was over silly things like which type of Cauldron and Vial set they should get for Fae, what level of basic potions set she should get, whether she needed a telescope immediately or if it could wait until more important studies were underway, and so on. Fae was happy to let them at it, being that she had no preference on magical equipment. It was just all really cool.
The final stop of the day was the best one. It was Ollivander's and Fae was sure she had been rude or annoying with all the questions she asked. What was the most interesting wand and person combination he'd ever seen? How did he know what was a perfect fit? Could a wizard or witch have multiple fits, because wands were broken right? How difficult was it to make a wand? To fix one? How broken did it have to be to be irreparable? How did height or age or gender or blood play a role? It was fascinating. Ollivander answered all her questions patiently while they went through about 8 wands, all of which either did nothing or did very little. It was unlike anything she felt when she got her hands on a 13 inch, largely pliable Cherry Wand with a Dragon Heartstring core. It was the proverbial hallelujah chorus. It was getting the promotion at work, winning a lottery ticket, slipping into a hot bath after a long day, and the first bite of a perfect piece of cake all at once.
She grinned and jumped in place a little out of excitement, waving the wand around her and delighting when boxes lifted and spun and danced in excellent, clumsy choreography. "What does it say about me? This wand?" She was dying to know.
Ollivander smiled grimly. "It means, dear girl, that you possess a rare and adaptable soul, capable of great power," he said. Much later, Fae would do some research on her own. Rare and adaptable and a tad dramatic, sure. What he hadn't said, probably for the sake of not pissing off her new adoptive parents, was that cherry wands were specifically known for destructive power. Jokes on him, Euphemia and Fleamont would have only laughed.
They purchased it without Fae letting it go for even a second. Fleamont was the one to insist on also buying a few holsters - one that was practical for everyday usage, one that was nicer and concealed easily under robes, and one that was meant specifically for running and other intense exercise. Euphemia threw in an extra one that was a lovely cream leather and would match most of her new clothes.
When they returned home, Euphemia and Fae brought everything into the living room, unpacked it all, and spread it out. Fleamont had grabbed up his new pens and quills and disappeared into the workshop quickly while the two women awed over their haul and then methodically placed each item into Fae's room and the bathroom she'd taken to using. It was a terrifying amount of things and it probably cost a fortune, not that it mattered. Their house had seven bedrooms at least and three bathrooms and Fleamont had just dropped 250 galleons on a crystal-plated pen that hadn't even written clean, straight lines when Fae tested it out.
When they were done, Fae stood in the doorway of her room. The mark on her back throbbed. She wanted to go for a run because her mind was racing, but her body was so tired. Euphemia took the choice off the table by offering her some coffee. Yes, Euphemia had bought a container of coffee just for Fae, although she had no clue how to brew it. Fae insisted through a blinding grin that she'd take care of it. In the living room for afternoon tea and coffee, Fleamont, Euphemia, and Fae settled down to talk. Well, Euphemia did most of the talking. She was telling Fleamont all about Fae's homeschooling and all the plans and ideas she had. The chatter was comfortable and it was warm. Fae found herself finishing her coffee and dozing off on the couch.
A loud shriek woke her up later, and she discovered Fleamont flinging pasta at Euphemia while she stirred a pot of red sauce and reached for her wand to shield herself. When they saw her standing there, Fleamont started throwing pasta at her too and Euphemia yanked her to safety behind a pot lid. War commenced for a little while before they actually settled down to eat their food. Through large mouthfuls of spaghetti, Fae began to suddenly get choked up. Swallowing it down harshly and taking a big gulp of water, she looked at her new adoptive parents.
"Thank you. Thank you so much, for everything," it finally occured to her to say.
"Of course, darling. Think nothing of it," Fleamont said.
"We're happy that you're happy, love."
That night, Fae passed out around eleven and woke up the next day at seven. It was a little later than she was hoping, but a good start. With a renewed sense of determination, she got out of bed, dressed in some of James' jogging pants, a t-shirt, and Fleamont's jacket. Neither Fleamont or Euphemia were out of bed yet as she dashed out the door fifteen minutes after seven. The sun was still below the horizon, but it's residual glow meant that it wasn't pitch black. Frosted puffs filled the air as Fae laughed a little under her breath when she was able to see definitive paths worn into the dirt and grass. Apparently, she had still been running the same path without noticing during the previous week's nighttime excursions. At least, enough times to flatten the grass.
She got a good 45 minutes in and the sun had risen by the time she made it back home. When she walked through the back door, Euphemia waved at her from the couch where she was reading the paper and drinking tea.
"Have a good run, dear?" she asked.
"Excellent!"
"Lovely. Go ahead and get cleaned up, Fleamont should have breakfast ready soon," she said.
Fae smiled and launched herself down the hallway, waving to Fleamont as she passed the kitchen doorway. He was waggling his arms to the wireless, a spatula in one hand, his wand in the other, and eggs were emptying themselves into a sizzling frying pan. Her stomach growled. With a happy hum, she grabbed a black mini-skirt and one of her new shirts, a sweet rose-colored button-up with gold buttons. She took a quick shower and decided not to wash her hair so she could get to breakfast faster - it wasn't all that damp from sweat or greasy.
Back downstairs in record time, she got a glass of water, chugged it all down quickly to drench her parched throat, refilled the glass, and sat down at the table with Euphemia and Fleamont for breakfast. After the table was cleared, Fae helped wash the dishes, first by wand, then by hand when she nearly shattered a plate.
"The clothes look good on you," Euphemia said cheerfully.
Fae twirled and grinned. "They do! They fit well too. Thanks again."
Euphemia waved her off and then hummed a bit. She gestured for Fae to sit down again and pulled out her wand. While Fae shrugged and sat, her brush and some hair pins came floating to them from down the hallway.
"May I?" Euphemia asked, already running her fingers through Fae's hair and tugging at the snags.
"Have at it," she answered. As Euphemia brushed through it, a little roughly, but Fae was not going to complain, she wasn't, Euphemia explained about homeschooling from here on. The kitchen table had been used for her studies in the past week, but Euphemia had converted one of the bedrooms into a study room at some point. When, Fae had no clue, but it was nice and filled with a good chunk of the new books they'd gotten yesterday. It was a corner room with windows on two walls, bookshelves on the third wall, and a large table and black board along the fourth wall and taking up a majority of the room. The table already had some of Fae's notebooks and pens set out, accompanied by workbooks and textbooks. Apparently, Euphemia was eager to get started.
Fae had loved college. She had loved choosing her schedule and when to study. She had loved online classes even more. Having control of her time and being able to pace herself was definitely her preference. It meant she could speed through her work and leave more time for personal life. It sucked a little to have to go back to someone else picking her schedule, but it was only for a few hours a day and it was better than the alternative. That and Euphemia, excited as she was, didn't hover too much. Mostly she lectured, explained the work, and then left Fae to it, while she took a seat in the room to read or went elsewhere in the house. She was always nearby if Fae had questions, which happened frequently.
Most of the morning was spent studying, but no matter how interesting learning magic was, there was still a limit to how much her brain could hold per day. Especially when it was all reading and theory still, no practical lessons yet. By lunch, she was antsy and would wander around the house after eating, helping Fleamont in the workshop or poking around the gardens with Euphemia. There was usually something to do like folding laundry or pulling weeds or chasing jarveys. Jarveys were hilarious and although her adoptive parents insisted she didn't have to do chores, they weren't going to say no and Fae wasn't going to turn down new experiences and activity.
After an hour or two, she settled down to read and study a little more. Come five o'clock, she'd change back into James' clothes and head out for another run, this time down the long road towards town. She was very curious about the other houses and shops and such nearby. They weren't in London, but weren't too far from it. It was suburban and on the fancier, higher middle-class side for the most part, with the exception of the Potter's who had an entire drive and acres of woods to themselves. It was 5 minutes of jogging to the nearest houses and almost 20 minutes to the edges of town. She resolved to get fast enough to clear it in 15, or even 10 minutes, one day. By six, she was back home again and settling down a sweaty mess at the dinner table. Euphemia was keen on getting details about Mrs. Delores' garden, particularly the vegetable patch.
When dinner was done, the three of them settled into the living room, the two elders with tea and Fae with some coffee and her journal. They would watch tv or listen to the wireless, occasionally chatting. Mostly, Fae just wrote. She had about four notebooks going at once now. One for her magic studies, one for her day-to-day journaling, one to record her memories, and one to record her memories specifically of the future in this world. She still wasn't really sure what she was going to do with her knowledge, but every detail was potentially important so she made sure to get it all down. She was thinking about a fifth notebook as well, just for song lyrics and titles. Her phone was 88% now and eventually would die. Music was something she desperately wanted to remember. Songs were so expressive and important, the way they connected memories and feelings in her mind. It may be decades before she heard them again and the thought made her teary-eyed.
Around nine, Fae went to bed first. She'd never had the kind of relationship with her brothers or her mother where they hugged or gave each other kisses, but Fae decided it was the kind of relationship she wanted with Euphemia and Fleamont. She gave them quick one-armed hugs and kisses on the cheek or forehead before departing the room. Going to sleep was tricky sometimes - she was still so used to gazing at her phone and mindlessly scrolling, but that was no longer an option. Instead, she created a new routine. She would lay out her clothes for her morning run, and then her clothes for morning homeschooling. She would brush out her hair and braid it so it didn't strangle her in her sleep. She'd make a list of things she wanted to do the next day - a shop she wanted to explore, a flower she wanted to steal and bring back for Fleamont, a book she wanted to read, a song she wanted to write down. Tasks and checking them off made her feel accomplished and in control.
Some mornings, she ran longer than others, exploring new paths. It took a few days of being nearly late to breakfasts and Euphemia ordering her to actually wash her hair instead of just washing her body before the Potters' installed a bell at the back door. It was a grand, brass thing, hanging from the ceiling of the porch. The noise it made echoed well into the woods and Fae was quick to recognize it as her 5 minute heads up. Sometimes she'd have to sprint from wherever she was when she heard the bell. Normally, she took the same path and kept a steady pace the whole time, but there were days when she liked the challenge.
Studying became a bit of a race as well - how quickly Fae would devour and burn through the young children's books for magic and how quickly Euphemia could make lesson plans for the next ages and years up. Of course Fae would get through it fast - it was like learning basic colors and numbers, the simplicity at which magic was broken down. Euphemia had all these materials for 5 year olds after all. But James had been a smart kid, still was, and Euphemia was smarter. So she called in her favors with the teachers of the older grades, obtaining workbooks and homework activities and the like as quickly as Fae needed them. Sometimes faster, which just made Fae read faster. She was a woman who liked control, and control of her own time was something she'd mastered long ago. Being able to do entire years of schooling and magical learning at her own pace? A dream, an absolute dream.
It was two weeks of reading before Euphemia finally cleared her for practical lessons, starting with 'Aguamenti'. Although, to be fair, Fae had been practicing some of the spells she remembered from Harry Potter. Easy, harmless ones, like Lumos or Accio. She hadn't managed to summon her brush from the dresser yet, but her wand did produce some faint light occasionally.
As it turned out, magic was kind of hard. It wasn't as simple as moving your wand the right way or articulating the incantation correctly. It was days of weak attempts before it occurred to Fae that it was like she learned in graphic design - it had more to do with will and emotion and personal growth rather than just technical knowledge. If nothing else, she was headstrong and stubborn and refused to believe she had a weak magical core. She'd been obese and awful at running once, and now she was lean and could average under a 10 minute mile regularly.
Funnily enough, it was an errant thought that really helped things click. With pumpkin-everything all over the place and all the gorgeous leaves and the cute, spooky decorations on plenty of houses in the neighborhood, it was obvious that Halloween was near. She had always loved Halloween. And thinking of Halloween made her think of years spent trick-or-treating and drinking apple cider with her roommates and all the classic shows and movies she would watch like Monsters Inc. or Paranormal Activity or Jennifer's Body or Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. It made her sad to think they didn't exist yet and some nights, she spent a lot of time writing summaries of the movies. Sometimes, she imagined them and played them in her head. It was Disney Channel's Halloweentown in particular that gave her a boost.
Magic is all about wanting something and letting yourself have it.
A brilliant cinematic line in history not yet written, and the night Fae thought of it was the night she conjured her brightest Lumos by far. The next day, she used Aguamenti to fill every glass in the house with water. The magical exhaustion, because that was a thing, reminded her a lot of finishing a rushed 6-hour work binge to make a deadline - where the tiredness lived somewhere behind her eyes and in her drooping shoulders. It was satisfying though. And like every capability, she knew it could be tested and practiced and improved.
To show Euphemia her progress, she filled the floor of the hallway between her bedroom and the kitchen with all the containers in the house she could get her hands on. Euphemia was not pleased when she woke up from her nap to a small army of cups, mugs, bowls, baking pans, flower pots, vases, and bottles all filled with water, and a bunch with water and yellow food coloring for funsies. Fleamont laughed his ass off. Euphemia quickly floated the glasses and started dumping as many on him as she could, chasing him into the backyard. Fae grinned impishly and complained of being tired, which wasn't untrue, and Euphemia decided Fleamont could clean up all the glasses and such. Then she made her famous banana bread for dessert at dinner and let Fae demolish it as a congratulations.
The next spell was Wingardium Leviosa, and then Orchideous, and then Scourgify. Despite getting her emotions to click with her technical knowledge, the next week did not go so well. Fae was burning through practical lessons, but it was rather inconsistent. One morning, she could perform three or four spells extremely well. Others, she'd struggle to float her water glasses to the kitchen when Euphemia demanded she bring her dishes down. Water would end up everywhere and Fae would angrily find herself cleaning up the mess on her hands and knees with a rag while Euphemia fumed. Her adoptive mom hated it when Fae hoarded water glasses in her room and returned them all at once using magic, mostly because Fae used it as a means to test herself and it didn't go well all that often.
It wasn't just practicals either. Fae found herself very restless. She ran as long as she could in the mornings. She bristled during writing practice and snapped a few quills. Really, quills were archaic and annoying and so time consuming, what with having to dip it in ink every few seconds. On this, Euphemia and Fae disagreed and up until now, Fae did her best to learn. But she just had no patience for it this week. Nonetheless, Euphemia stood over her during practice, coaching her to go slower and more gracefully through her w's and m's. Fae scarfed down lunch and went for a very long run that day. It was a rough run too, ending with her arms and legs scratched from the numerous branches in the woods. And she may have tripped once or twice. However, by the end of her runs, she usually found herself calmer and feeling guilty for the attitude and bewildered by her fiery temper. What was going on with her?
The bursts of rage continued. She got very good at casting Reparo and Episkey that week. Midnight runs even resumed. Her appetite increased tenfold too, and Euphemia joked that Fae would put on weight if she wasn't careful. Formerly overweight and currently tetchy, Fae did not take that joke very well and stormed away from the table. Fleamont's workshop was where she ended up if she wasn't running. They had an understanding of when to talk and when to just exist in the same space. As often as he poked fun at his wife, Fleamont was actually a fairly intuitive person.
Then her body became sore and itchy. At first, she figured that all the extra running was taking its toll on her body, no big deal. She took to stretching. And then she took to push-ups and squats and shuttle runs and lunges when none of her stretches worked. Those alleviated the itch a little bit. It finally all made sense, and left her feeling very embarrassed, when Moody showed up one afternoon.
"So, shall we put up the wards?" he asked. Fleamont appeared, clasped Moody's shoulder, thanked him for coming, and the two went up the stairs. Upstairs was mostly bedrooms that weren't used. It was also where the attic was, which was getting warded for Fae's transformation that night.
"Ohhhhhhh," she said. Right. The werewolf thing. She'd forgotten. And yes, that was embarrassing. Good lord, she'd been so bitchy and restless that week. It must've been the upcoming full moon. Her poor parents. Had it really been a month already? Evidently it had. She jumped a little when Euphemia came to stand behind her, running a hand gently across her hair.
"It'll be alright darling. We'll make sure you're safe. Everything will be just fine," she said.
Fae was in a bit of a daze for the rest of the evening. She went for one more run after an early dinner, returning when the bell rang and then sun was midway through setting. Moody and her parents were drinking tea in the living room and Fae joined them with her coffee, thoughts racing and knee bouncing. She thought about pacing. She also thought about sitting down on the rug and stretching out her legs, twisting her back, reaching for her toes, bending herself this way and that so she could get out of her skin.
What was it going to be like? All she could think of was Remus Lupin. He was the only werewolf that actually talked about lycanthropy in the Harry Potter series, and it had really kind of fucked up his life from all angles. Not able to get a job, ill-looking from the toll it took on his body, afraid of people and the way they would see him. It didn't paint a very pleasant picture. But Fae was nothing if not stubborn. Money wasn't an issue for her currently, she was already blessed with people who liked her anyways, and other than some soreness and twitchy limbs, her body was in better condition than being on her period in all honesty. It was going to be fine. As she talked herself out of panicking, she found herself curious and anticipating the change. It was the kind of feeling before starting a new job, where you're not sure if you're ready for the change, but it's happening anyways so you're eager to just roll with it.
The sun began to sink deep below the horizon and the adults followed her up the stairs. When she came to the attic door, she peered in. It was pretty spacious, especially with everything moved out of it. All of the boxes and furniture and knick knacks had been moved into the bedrooms below. There were two windows, on opposite walls, and if she had to guess, it was roughly the size of a 4-car driveway. She could feel magic - whether it was the magic of the wards or the magic of the change beneath her skin, she didn't know. Turning back to face Moody, Euphemia, and Fleamont, she smiled at them confidently.
"See you in the morning," she said cheerfully. Fleamont looked uncharacteristically grim. Euphemia looked like she might cry. Moody just gave her a simple nod.
"The wards will hold strong," he said.
When the door shut, Fae immediately felt claustrophobic which was an incredibly unfamiliar feeling. She liked fitting into small spaces. As a little girl, she would make nap holes in closets and hide in shelves when she threw tantrums. Long car rides stuffed in the backseat with overflowing luggage were some of her favorite memories. But this? She felt like tearing down the walls. It got darker and she walked to the window. The woods looked so inviting and she took deep measured breaths. It occurred to her that she was shaking. Her heart rate was accelerating. She began to pace and her legs felt like they were growing with every step, shoulders hunching inward. It was a disorientation like standing up too fast and nearly blacking out. Then the pain skyrocketed. She'd never broken a bone in her life and this really fucking sucked. Falling to her knees, she pounded at the floor, writhing, gasping, and eventually yelling her lungs out.
When Fae woke up, everything hurt so much more than she thought it would. The room was wrecked, wood splintered and covered in scratches and gouges. The windows were so cracked, you couldn't see through them any more and the only reason they hadn't fallen into dust must've been the protective wards. She lay there, feeling dramatically sorry for herself, she was in so much pain she couldn't even cry.
Euphemia came in minutes after the sun had firmly risen. She walked to Fae's side, helped her up, and slipped a pretty silk robe around her naked shoulders. James' clothes had been shredded. The cool wash of magic soothed her stings and cleared the blood, but the actual injuries remained. Right. Because self-inflicted werewolf injuries weren't healable without that unique mix of silver and dittany, if she recalled correctly. Fae left her body limp and lifeless. Fleamont came in, carried her to her bed, and settled her down.
"If you need anything darling, anything at all, just let us know," she said, and they closed the door.
After an hour of staring at the wall, Fae cast Silencio. She pulled out her phone and drained 10% of the battery listening to her most favorite comforting songs.