Note: This story is rated M for mature content such as violence, gore, strong language, and sexual themes. This chapter is pretty low-key but I will make sure to post trigger warnings for future chapters that need them. Enjoy!
MAY 1993
The mornings that followed the night of the full moon were always the most difficult for Georgeanna. She stood up from the floor, stretching her legs and back wearily as she rose to her full height, and inspected her body for injury. Noting the new claw marks on her arms and torso, she sighed heavily – another transformation, another set of scars. Crossing the space to her wash stand, which had been flipped onto its side, she lifted it to its rightful state and poured cold water into the basin; the bucket of water from yesterday had luckily remained untouched. She winced as she dabbed at her open wounds with a clean rag and did what she could to soothe her marred skin. Not quite satisfied, but happy that they were no longer bleeding, Georgeanna quickly wrapped her wounds with strips of cloth and dressed herself in the nearest garments she could find from the mess on the floor.
Every single month she tore her small living space apart, and every month she had to piece it all back together. She went to work salvaging what she could of her furniture – she had destroyed yet another chair, leaving her with only one to place at her small table – and inspecting the clothing and books that had been strewn about the room. One of her better dresses was ripped to shreds; she tossed it into a corner to be dealt with later as it would make good bandages for next month. She gathered the rest of her clothing, folded it neatly, and placed the small pile on the low shelf beneath her wash stand. Most of her books had pages bent at all angles from where they had landed on the floor and she spent quite some time lovingly unfolding the sheets of paper before stacking them carefully against the wall. The bed itself was mostly unscathed, the wooden frame moved halfway across the room from where it normally sat, and it took a great deal of her energy to move it back into place. She put the thin mattress back on top and tucked her blanket around it. Picking up her pillow, Georgeanna scoffed in annoyance when feathers began cascading out of a giant rip in the side. She angrily tossed the pillow across the room and immediately regretted it – her room was now thoroughly coated in a layer of white goose feathers.
Too tired to really care, Georgeanna collapsed onto her bed and pulled the covers up over her head to block out the little sunlight that managed to peek in through her curtains. Within moments, fatigue overtook her and she faded from consciousness.
She awoke sometime later, her stomach growling in protest of her too long nap. Her room was now aglow with warm yellow light; it made the aftermath of the night before that much more obvious. Feathers aside, the floor was still littered with splintered pieces of wood from the broken chair and shards of glass from what looked to be the last of her dishes. The small cupboard she stored her cookware and supplies in was open, one of the doors hanging by a single hinge and the other completely ripped off. Some of the contents had been spilled out onto the floor. Sitting up, Georgeanna placed her head in her hands and sighed.
After all the years she'd been infected, over a decade of dealing with the repercussions, she had yet to gain any ground on controlling her 'other' self. It was physically and mentally exhausting – not to mention the toll it took on her belongings.
Rubbing the remaining sleep from her eyes, Georgeanna rose to her feet and crossed to the fireplace. The embers had long since died out and the wood had burned to ash. Gathering up the broken chair pieces, she stacked them neatly in a pile beneath her cauldron. Hovering her hands over the wood, she closed her eyes and concentrated on casting incendio. She could feel warmth gathering in her palms and focused her mind on setting the wood ablaze. Sparks flew from her hands but weren't enough to ignite flames. She took a deep breath and tried again. This time, not even a single spark flickered.
With a frustrated groan she headed for the door, pausing for a moment to examine the massive claw marks on the wall and the floor. She knew that one of these nights she would manage to break through her wards and escape, and she could only hope that there wouldn't be anyone around to witness it. Placing one hand on the doorknob and the other pressed against the wooden door, she focused again on controlling her magic and channeling it toward taking down her protective charms and unlocking the door. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could feel the magic surrounding her home as if it were a solid wall. Concentrating, she imagined taking the wall down brick by brick until the majority of the spells were gone. "Alohomora," she whispered. Nothing happened. Come on! She tugged at the door but it remained locked. Calming herself and refocusing her energy, Georgeanna furrowed her brow and thought only of the door opening under her touch. She imagined herself holding a key and placing it into the lock, turning the key and unlocking the door. "Alohomora," she said confidently. She heard a soft clicking sound and, opening her eyes, saw the door creak open.
A mirthless smile graced her tired features as she stepped outside into the warm spring afternoon. The world around her was full of vigor and blooming life. Rainfall the night before had left everything in the forest coated in a thin sheet of glittering droplets; the trees and brambles that surrounded her small home appeared to glisten in the sunlight. Birdsong and chittering filled the air. Her boots squelched on the wet ground as she followed the well-worn pathway into the woods. Her normal route consisted of several berry bushes – most of which were still maturing – and led to a shallow creek where she could typically catch a small fish or two. Her stomach growled again at the thought of a warm meal.
She searched the ground for a long enough stick to use as a spear and was not disappointed. The rainstorm had knocked several branches loose and she had her choice of selection. Finding her pick, she grabbed a flat rock and began to sharpen the stick as she walked. The air was cool and the wind was calm. She spotted a cluster of mushrooms and decided she would pick them on the way home to add to her lunch. Once she reached the creek, she settled onto her haunches and glanced over the running water, looking for the telltale signs of fish. It took several minutes for her to spot one. She acted quickly, stealthily rising up and hoisting the spear high, eyeing the fish carefully before impaling the creature in one swift movement. She laughed victoriously as she inspected the fish, a healthy-looking trout, and removed it from her spear. Laying it down gently on a bed of grass, she took her chances at finding another one.
After a long while spent fishing, the sun beginning to dip behind the trees, Georgeanna had managed to catch three fish and was feeling quite pleased with her efforts. She pulled the shoelace from her boot and secured her fish to the stick, hoisting it over her shoulder to begin the walk back. Not forgetting the mushrooms, she picked several of the larger ones and continued on. The walk back was relaxing, if not a little uncomfortable from having one shoe nearly falling off, and she felt that fortune had smiled down on her today. Perhaps this was a sign of an easy month ahead? She could only hope.
Rounding a corner and following the path down a hill to her tiny, rundown cabin, Georgeanna abruptly stopped and nearly slipped on a muddy patch when her home came into view: there was smoke coming from the chimney. Her muscles tensed and she breathed in deeply, trying to get a sense of who – or what – was around. She could smell the little furry creatures that were skittering around and the birds that were nesting in the tree above her. She picked up the smell of something meaty and herbal but she couldn't place it. Careful not to make noise, she set down her fish and mushrooms and untied the shoelace, deftly lacing her boot back up. Spear in hand, she crept quietly toward the side of her house. The curtains were still drawn and she couldn't see clearly inside but she noted movement within.
Fear made her heart beat wildly in her chest. Georgeanna wanted to believe that a lost hiker had managed to find her cabin and was simply looking for shelter, but she knew this couldn't be the case – she had been taught how to set wards against that very scenario. Her magic was not incredibly powerful but it was enough to keep wandering muggles away from her home. This made her even more nervous. The wards were set to alert her if anyone with ill intent were to get too close, but they had not sounded the alarm. Her palms grew sweaty as she gripped the spear tighter in front of her body. She slowly made her way around to the front door. Had the wards simply failed? No, she had felt them holding fast when she left earlier. If the person inside truly meant her no harm, that made her even more suspicious. The only person who had known about the cabin besides Georgeanna was dead.
Swallowing her fear, she placed one hand on the doorknob and listened intently. The inside of the cabin was silent save for a low humming sound. A man. There was definitely a man inside. She could smell him more clearly now: peppermint and something sweet, like lemon sugar. 'Now or never,' she thought as she let the door swing open. She held her spear strongly in front of her, ready to defend herself. She was not expecting what awaited inside.
The room had been thoroughly cleaned and tidied, all traces of feathers and debris gone from sight. Her bed was made neatly and her pillow rested on top, fluffy and full. The fire was burning and something in her cauldron was boiling, the smell nearly overwhelming her with its delicious aroma. There was now a plush burgundy rug covering the wooden floor of her home. The curtains were repaired of any tears and the color revived, the faded hue of blue now a rich navy and embroidered with tiny moons and shooting stars. Her cupboard was repaired and the wood was shiny with a new cherry finish. The wash stand had a matching finish as well, and the basin was no longer a simple metal tub but had been replaced by a wide porcelain sink – it even appeared to have plumbing attached. She took a tentative step inside, spear still raised, and tried to clear her mind of the confused fog that had descended over her. 'What on Earth?'
"Ah, you've returned." The relaxed tone of a man's voice shoved Georgeanna from her stupor and back into the present. At the table in the corner of the room, now topped with a pale green tablecloth and a vase of fresh flowers, sat an old man. At least, he appeared to be old but the twinkle in his eye and the gentle smile on his lips seemed to tell a different story. He was dressed in silvery blue robes with a matching floppy hat. His gray hair and beard were neatly groomed. Not moving an inch, she studied the intruder and noted that his posture seemed relaxed, as if he visited all the time. His hands were folded calmly on his lap as he leaned back in a comfortable looking velvet armchair. She definitely didn't own a chair like that.
"Wh-" Her voice caught in her throat. She spoke again, her voice steady as she tried to appear brave. "Who are you?" She nudged the spear in his direction. The man merely smiled calmly. "What do you want?"
The man stood gracefully and Georgeanna instinctively lifted the spear threateningly. He held his hands up, palms facing out toward her. She noted that he was wearing a number of gold rings on his fingers that matched the thin golden chain he had wrapped around the end of his long beard. "I mean you no harm. In fact, I'm very glad to have finally found you, Georgeanna. Please, forgive the intrusion." He glanced from her to the spear and back again. "And the redecoration. I took it upon myself to create a comfortable environment while I waited. I truly hope you don't mind."
She crossed the room and pointed the spear directly at him, only a foot away from his chest. "How do you know my name!?" She bared her teeth aggressively. A feeling welled up inside her, one she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time: rage. It was difficult to control once she let it out, but this stranger was testing her patience.
He briefly looked down at her shaking hands and then his pale blue eyes met her gray ones once again. "I had hoped you'd have some recollection of me, but you were awfully young the last time we met." Georgeanna looked at him, her face twisted in confusion. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I've been looking for you for a very long time."
At hearing his name, a long-forgotten memory resurfaced and took Georgeanna by complete surprise. Her mother kissing her forehead. A man approaching her from the other side of the room. "Hello, there," he said in his gentle voice. "My name is Albus Dumbledore." Running through darkened streets. The blast of colors as spells were hurled at her family. Her little brother crying. And then…
She lowered the spear, only marginally, and took a step away from Albus. "You knew my parents." It was not a question.
"Yes, I did. Your father, specifically, but I was familiar with your mother as well. She was an exceptional woman."
"For a muggle, you mean?" She sneered at him. Georgeanna was familiar with the way the wizarding world looked down on muggles and lesser magical creatures.
Albus pulled a wand from the sleeve of his robe. "I never saw the need to differentiate. Both of your parents were admirable people." Flicking his wrist, he summoned her remaining wooden chair by her table and transfigured it mid-air into an armchair that matched his own. He placed it gently down against the wall opposite his and motioned toward it. "Please, have a seat. We have much to discuss and, unfortunately, I'm limited on time." He sat down once again, his movements smooth and fluid.
Georgeanna didn't take her eyes off of his wand. She knew what wands were capable of, how much destruction they could cause. Sensing her apprehension, Albus held his wand out to her as a peace offering. She took another moment to consider her options before hastily grabbing the wand and sitting in the chair, her spear resting on her lap.
Albus raised an eyebrow but said nothing as she inspected the wand. She eyed it warily as if it would suddenly sprout teeth and bite her. She carefully tucked it beneath the velvety cushion of the chair and looked up at him expectantly.
He cleared his throat. "Now then, as I've said, I have been searching for your whereabouts since learning of your family's untimely deaths." His voice was quiet as he said this, and she could see a flicker of emotion within his expressive eyes. "You've done an exquisite job at staying hidden all these years, Miss Earnshaw. Aside from wondering how long you've been out here on your own – and I'm assuming you live alone based on the state of things when I arrived - what I'd most like to know is how did you escape Lord Voldemort and end up all the way out here in the Ardennes?" Albus studied her carefully, as if she would jump up and run out the door now that he had fallen silent. Georgeanna had to admit that she was contemplating how quickly she could escape from this man and his questions if the time came.
The cauldron began hissing loudly as the contents boiled over and spilled down the sides. Georgeanna moved to get up but Albus held out a pale, slim hand in her direction. With a motion from his other hand, the fire was reduced to a low flame and suddenly there was a steaming bowl of stew on the table in front of her and a metal spoon in her hand. She tossed the spoon onto the table in surprise. "You don't even need your wand!" Albus glanced at her in a way that said 'of course' as he blew on his own bowl of stew. "Giving it to me was all for show." Georgeanna felt insulted, although she should've known better.
"It was an act of trust. I wanted you to feel in control, and to know that what I said it true: I mean you no harm." He took a bite of his stew. "Mm, it's quite good. You must be hungry after last night. Tuck in."
Georgeanna watched as he chewed and swallowed. 'So, he didn't poison it…' She stirred her stew and raised her spoon to taste it when she paused. Lowering her spoon, she narrowed her eyes at the man sitting across from her who was watching her thoughtfully. "What did you just say?"
"Last night was the full moon, was it not?" He took another bite and chewed slowly. Georgeanna's brain was working quickly to determine if he'd said what she thought he'd said: that she was tired after the full moon and therefore he knew of her condition. But how? "It certainly was in Scotland." His eyes glimmered as he smirked at her, his attempt to lighten the mood lost on a bewildered Georgeanna.
"How do you know?" Her muscles felt tight in her body. "How did you know where to find me? How do you know what I am?" She shifted forward in her chair and her knee bumped the table, the stew sloshing against the side of her bowl and nearly spilling onto the pristine tablecloth. "I haven't seen another wizard in years and all of a sudden you just show up in my home and expect us to have a nice chat over lunch? I don't even know who you are!" She waited expectantly for his response.
"A conversation is exactly what I came here for, Georgeanna. Now, please, eat and allow me to explain." She opened her mouth to argue but Albus spoke over her. "If you permit me to say what I've come here to say, I will answer whatever questions you may have. Well, the questions I have answers for, that is. Does that sound agreeable to you?" He waited as she looked him up and down, touching the wand hidden safely beneath her cushion, and nodded her head. Albus continued, "Excellent. Now, where to begin?" He brushed his fingers through his beard and was quiet for a moment. "I'm not sure how much you know of the end of the war, as you were quite young, but Lord Voldemort was defeated in October of 1981." Albus was aware of the way Georgeanna shuddered at the name. "It was at that time that I became aware of your father's involvement with the Death Eaters."
"My father was NOT a Death Eater!" She stood tall as she shouted the words, as if she was trying to let the whole world know.
"No, of course not. Forgive me, my dear, I misspoke. Please, sit." Georgeanna sat once more and took a wary bite of her food. Albus was right about one thing, the stew was absolutely delicious. "I became aware of Voldemort's control over your father only after it was too late. My sources confirmed that he was only aiding in Voldemort's cause to protect your family."
Georgeanna was staring down into her bowl. Her skin was crawling at the mention of that… that horrible man's name. The things he did to her family, the things he let happen to 'motivate' her father into compliance… "Can you please stop?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, the rage within her subsiding.
"Stop what, my dear?"
"His name." She met his eyes and Albus could see the wetness gathering on her lower lash line. "Don't say his name."
Albus nodded in understanding. Waiting another silent moment, he spoke again once Georgeanna had continued to eat. "I was devastated to learn of what transpired. An entire family murdered, or so I thought." With an almost unnoticeable movement of his hands, his empty bowl and spoon disappeared. "It wasn't until many months had passed that I was informed that you were, indeed, still alive. Somehow, against all odds, you had escaped and managed to find safety with the werewolf community in Northern England. I was shocked, to say the least. There were several attempts to make contact with you, Georgeanna, but I believe all of them were intercepted by Fenrir Greyback."
Her blood ran cold when that name met her ears. It had been so long since she'd heard it and yet… His teeth on her neck. His bloody smile as he laughed down at her. The feeling of his claws on her back. She'd never forget that monster as long as she lived.
"Why now?" she asked bitterly.
"Excuse me?"
Georgeanna gently placed the bowl and spoon onto the table and stood, leaving her spear leaning against the armchair. She walked over to the window on the other side of the room and pulled the curtain back. The material was soft in her hands. Beyond the glass, she could see that the sun had fallen even lower; it would only be a few more hours until the sun completely set and the darkness would fall all around her. She thought then of her fish and mushrooms left behind on the hill. By now some creature or the insects would have claimed the spoils of her hard work. She heard Albus shift in his chair. The soft sound of metal clinking together as he folded his hands together reached her ears. She could sense the quiet curiosity in him, almost smell it.
"Why are you here now? You said you've been looking for me and have these 'sources' that told you about… about my family, about me. But why now?" She felt the tears forming in her eyes again and roughly brushed them away. When she turned to face Albus, her expression was hard as stone. "I've been here, alone, since I was fifteen. No one has ever tried to help me out of the goodness of their heart. There's always a motive. So why now? What reason could you possibly have for looking for a dead girl?"
Albus remained silent for a long moment. They stared at each other from across the room, a wall building between them as the seconds passed. "No one, you say?" He raised a quizzical brow.
There was a strange tickling sensation in her head. A memory came creeping forward, one from her time in the werewolf commune before she escaped. There had been a young man who had been kind to her. She closed her eyes and could see his shaggy brown hair and gentle smile. James. He had assured her that he would help her, but even his words of promise had been empty lies.
"Not a single person." Her words were clipped and her tone sharp. She was quickly losing her patience again. She felt anger bubbling in her stomach.
Albus sighed deeply. "I'm terribly sorry, Georgeanna."
She scoffed. He could be sorry all he wanted. It wouldn't change anything. She crossed her arms in front of her, wincing slightly as she put too much pressure on her bandaged arms.
"To answer your question, I'm here because I believe it is safe for you to return to society. There have been great advances in-"
"Safe!?" Georgeanna sneered. "When has wizarding society ever been safe? Especially for people like me?" Her voice was a low growl. "I know what your 'society' thinks of werewolves, how they treat us as if we're nothing more than animals and let us die in the streets. Robert always said…" She trailed off, her thoughts drifting away. 'We can never go back. We're monsters.'
Albus stood and held his hands behind his back. "It may be difficult for you to believe, Georgeanna, but things have changed. I won't lie to you and tell you that everything is as equal as it should be. Alas, there has been notable advancement in potion making in the last decade that I believe you will benefit significantly from." He paced the floor, deliberately avoiding Georgeanna's direct space. "Perhaps you'd like to see for yourself?"
She watched his every move. She began to feel as if he were studying her, waiting for a reaction. Her eyes flickered to the armchair that held his wand. Part of her wanted to know what he was going on about, but a bigger part of her just wanted him to go away and leave her alone. Sighing, she made eye contact and nodded her head. Albus reached into his robe pocket and slowly pulled out a glass vial that glittered slightly in the glow of the fire. Georgeanna squinted her eyes to see it better. Noting her interest, Albus snapped his fingers and the room filled with light. She couldn't help but glance around the room to see where the light came from, but it just seemed to exist on its own. Albus stepped forward carefully, holding out his upturned palm to her.
"This," he said, "is Wolfsbane Potion." The liquid was a blue-gray color and appeared to be smoking inside the glass.
Georgeanna looked up at Albus in disbelief. "Is… is it a cure?" Her heart was racing.
Frowning slightly, he shook his head. "Unfortunately, no, it is not a cure." Albus could see the disappointment in her face as she stared at the vial. "Yet, the effects are quite beneficial. This potion allows you to maintain your consciousness following transformation. Although, I have been told that the taste is something awful."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Somehow, drinking this potion would allow her to be in control of her werewolf form? No more black outs? No more waking up in a daze to find her home and belongings shredded by her violent other half? It seemed far too good to be true. "How do you know it works?"
Albus placed the vial back into his pocket and chuckled. "I have it on good authority that it works quite well if taken in proper doses and on a strict schedule. I'll have you know that this is no easy potion to concoct. It takes a very skilled potions master to get it right and, as luck would have it, I happen to have a very skilled potions master in my employ. One of the best in the country, if I do say so myself. England, that is, not France." Georgeanna stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Albus was studying her again. She didn't like the feeling that he could see right through her. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts. As if on cue, he smiled. "If you were to decide to return and rejoin the wizarding community, it would be within my power to ensure you have access to this potion each month."
So that's it. She should've known there was a catch. Albus was dangling this potion, this incredible, wonderful potion in front of her but only if she let him bring her back to a world that had long forgotten her – a world where she had nothing to live for. Out here, in the open wilderness of forests and mountains, she had found some semblance of peace. "I can't go back." She looked down at her feet and refused to meet his inquiring eyes. "I'm… I'm a monster."
"Poppycock!" Albus placed a finger under her chin and gently lifted her head back up. "You, my dear, are not a monster. Far from it."
"I… you don't… the things I've done…" She angrily swiped at her watering eyes.
"We've all done things we wish we hadn't, Georgeanna. Regret is part of being alive. But so is taking chances." Albus held out a hand and suddenly his wand was sitting in his palm. He tucked it inside his long sleeve. He glanced out the open window and let out a loud 'ahh' that caused Georgeanna to flinch. "Would you look at that? The sun has nearly set." He rooted around in his robe pockets, checking the inside pockets as well, before letting out a short laugh and reaching underneath his hat. Albus retrieved a small scroll of parchment and handed it to Georgeanna, who took it warily and held it in her open hand. "I won't rush you into making such a bold, life changing decision, my dear, but should you decide that you wish to come back, simply toss that scroll into the fire and clearly speak the words 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.' Then, simply walk through. I truly hope you will consider the opportunity. I believe our world would benefit greatly by having you back in it." He looked meaningfully at her and she saw a hint of something hidden behind his expression. "Now," he said cheerfully as he crossed to the door. "I will get out of your hair and let you enjoy the rest of your evening. It was a pleasure, Miss Earnshaw, and I look forward to meeting again soon. Ta-ta!" And with those words, Albus opened the door, gave one last meaningful look at Georgeanna, and was gone.
She stood in the middle of the room for a long time. Her mind replayed the events of the afternoon over and over again. Considering everything, she had only been able to come to the solid conclusion that Albus was a very strange man. He had come out of seemingly nowhere, turned her world upside down, and then left with all the pleasantness of an old friend. Staring down at the scroll, she seriously debated throwing it into the fire right this second and being done with all of it. Yet she couldn't seem to move her feet.
This scroll held promise. This could be her entry into a world she'd long since lost hope of ever retuning to. And that potion… It was beyond her wildest dreams. Knowing that there was much to think about, Georgeanna carefully tucked the scroll between the pages of a book and went to sit in her bed. She kicked off her boots and wrapped her arms around her knees. The cabin was eerily quiet now and she realized that she hadn't had a conversation with another person in over eight years. She normally spoke her thoughts aloud to herself or said nothing at all for weeks at a time. It had been nice to have actual company.
She let herself fall to the side and rested her head on the pillow. Whether it was the repairing magic or simply mental exhaustion, her bed felt far more comfortable than she remembered. Thoughts still running through her head, she let herself relax and eventually drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
The following weeks passed slowly for Georgeanna. All she could think about was Albus's visit and that damned scroll.
Her normal routine seemed to fall short of keeping her distracted and she often caught herself staring at the book which housed the tiny bit of rolled up parchment. Throughout her day, she would find herself picking up the book and opening it just to make sure the scroll hadn't disappeared from the last time she checked. With her energy having recovered following the full moon, she practiced her magic more often than she used to. She told herself that it was only to keep herself in top condition, but deep down she knew that she wanted to be able to protect herself if she chose to go back.
But what would she go back to? There was no family waiting for her. She had no home to go to, no money to her name, and no friends. Georgeanna wouldn't admit it to herself but she was absolutely terrified of being exposed to wizarding society after all the years spent in hiding. Albus knowing she was a werewolf was bad enough. How would other people react? Her blood turned cold at the thought of going back to England only to be rejected.
'We're monsters.'
Robert's words echoed in her ears. He had been the one to save her from the werewolf commune. He had risked both of their lives in order to free her from Greyback's control. Robert had warned her of the dangers of being a known werewolf among normal wizards and witches. He hadn't been the most innocent of men, she had found that out eventually, but he had always looked out for her and kept her safe; that is, until she'd started asking questions.
She shook her head to clear her mind of all thoughts of Robert. He wasn't what she needed to focus on right now. She decided that a swim in the creek would do her some good. The brisk walk outside helped to clear her head. Reaching her normal spot, she quickly removed her boots and jumped into the water fully clothed; she figured her dress could do with a wash as well.
Georgeanna stayed beneath the water until her lunges ached for air. Resurfacing, she lazed onto her back and floated along limply. She gazed up into the cheery blue sky and watched the sparse clouds drift by. The cold water made her skin prickle. 'There will be hot showers if I go back,' she bartered with herself. It had been a number of years since she'd enjoyed one. After a short while she swam back to shore and sat in the grass, kicking her feet in the water. She attempted to brush her fingers through the tangled mess on her head. Giving up, she merely wrung out the long tresses and laid back, spreading her hair out around her for the sun to dry. 'I could get a hairbrush… and real ribbons, colorful ones…' She left herself drift away on promising thoughts as her eyes fell closed.
When she awoke, the sun was high in the sky and her stomach was grumbling. She stood, shaking out the stiff material of her dress and stretched her arms over her head. 'I bet there would be more to eat than just fish.' She rolled her eyes at herself and stomped back to her cabin. She made herself a quick lunch of dried meat and wild greens, wishing all the while that it tasted as good as Albus's stew. Georgeanna sat at the table for a very long time, staring down at the pattern in the wood and trying very hard not to think about anything at all.
By the time the sun had begun to descend, she had decided that enough was enough. After hours of driving herself mad, she came to a conclusion that had been fairly obvious since the moment she seriously started considering Albus's proposal: What did she have to lose?
Going to her book pile once more, she lifted the one with the blue cover and cracked it open. The scroll lay exactly where she'd left it. She picked it up, set the book down, and held it in her open palm. It had gone slightly flat but was still intact. She rolled it in her fingers and brought it up to her nose to smell it. There was the musty scent of something earthy, maybe smokey, but it was otherwise just a plain piece of parchment. Curiosity finally getting the better of her, she gently unrolled it only to find that it was blank and had been coated in some sort of green powder. Careful not to spill any of the contents, she rolled it back up and placed it on the table.
Acting on impulse before she began to doubt herself, Georgeanna quickly gathered her few items of clothing, her books, and whatever else she could carry and placed everything on her bed. She folded her blanket around the items and haphazardly tied the ends together. She grabbed her cloak and forced her arms through the holes in the sides, only to find that she had put it on backwards and trying again. She secured it around her neck and inhaled deeply. 'No looking back,' she thought. She closed the curtains on the windows and walked to the door. Placing her hands on the walls on either side of the door, she closed her eyes and reinforced the charms already in place around her home. Feeling extra cautious, she imagined the entire cabin disappearing. She willed her magic to make the small building untraceable. Not knowing the words, she pictured the outside of her home and saw in her mind's eye the cabin fading from sight until she felt the magic flowing through her hands and into the walls.
Hoping for the best, she opened her eyes and took one final look around. A pang of sadness hit her as she examined her home for what could possibly the last time. Gathering up her somewhat awkward pack of belongings, she picked up the scroll and stood before her small fireplace. "Hogwards… no, Hogwarts… Hogwarts School of… Wizardy and, ugh…" Her mouth felt full of marbles. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She repeated the words several times until she was sure she had it right. Feeling confident, she tossed the parchment into the flames. The fire roared and grew to an incredible height. The flames were a vibrant shade of green. Georgeanna had not been expecting that, although, she hadn't really been sure what would happen. Preparing herself for what may wait on the other side, she said the words once more and stepped into the flames.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I have the next chapter already written and the next several outlined and in the works. If you'd like to read more, please review and I'll have them up shortly!