A/N: Elisa is © Me. Dumbledore and everyone else though belongs to Ms. Rowling. Don't expect anything else from Elisa, she's just a "spur of the moment"…
B
Elisa collapsed to the cold damp grass, shivering. She clutched at the ground, her fingernails digging into the dewy soil as she curled into a ball, and the sobs started. She was trying not to cry, trying hard not to gag on the scent that was all around her, all over her. In her clothes, her hair, penetrating deep into her soul. She was frightened, more than she had ever been in her entire life, the fear coursing through her like electrified poison. No one would ever understand what had happened that night, would ever believe that she hadn't even done it consciously.
A student was dead, killed in a most gruesome way near the forest. They would know it hadn't been a beast from the woods, would be able to tell from the human footprints that led deeper into the forest. Elisa's worst fear had suddenly crashed into reality, and there was nothing she could do about it.
There was still another hour of darkness left, but the moon had already retired from the night. Soon, the first drops of daylight would begin to seep across the horizon, but this time the scene would not bring relief. Anxiety, terror and hopelessness began to wind their way through her mind, and she knew what day would bring. It would bring people, bring them to the edge of the forest to discover the mangled body of a young second-year girl, bring them to the footprints, and lead them to Elisa who was soaked with the girl's blood. They would know.
Elisa choked on her sobs and struggled achingly to sit up. She wiped at her flushed blood-spattered face with the back of her hand and hugged her knees to her chest, sniffling and hiccuping. She was only 15. Too young to know what to do next, too young to have even done what she had done…
They won't see a frightened girl, they'll see a willful killer, a monster…a…a…
A werewolf.
She began to rock back and forth, her head against her knees, her chest caving from the intensity of her sobs. She felt as if she were about to suffocate and welcomed it, wished for an end to her night of horror and for what was to surely come.
But she didn't suffocate. Instead, the memories pried their way through the mental block she had put up, rushing forward with increasing ferocity. The screams, the sounds of ripping flesh, of snapping cartilage and bone, and the taste…that coppery tang that was settling in the back of her throat. The metallic scent that was everywhere, invading and intrusive…
Before she could stop herself, Elisa turned to the side and retched, trying to support herself with tremulous arms. The taste of flesh was back and only made things worse. Flesh, blood and bone…
She curled into herself once more, ashamed, shivering, completely alone. Elisa had no one. No friends, no family, no one that could help her. The very werewolf that had bitten her when she was just a child had killed her parents as well. She had been left with the orphanage; no one in her family had wanted to take care of a werewolf, even if she was their niece or granddaughter. The orphanage was just as bad. They treated her like a freak, avoided her as if she were a deadly disease and simply looking at her would contaminate them. They had sent her to Hogwarts if only to be rid of her for 9 months. Elisa had hoped to make friends, had kept it all a secret, but there was something about her that nobody wanted to be around. It was as if she had set off some kind of radar without knowing it. However, now that she thought about it, there was one person…one student among all of them that would sit at her table in the library, even when there was space at the others, someone who would greet her in passing in the hall. Sadly though, she didn't get to talk to that person much at all. So other than that one student, she was ultimately ignored.
Not when they find out…no…they'll come after you with torches and their wands held high, and they'll KILL you! They don't care who you are, they'll kill you on the spot!
She cried.
Soon, the first rays of gold were trickling through the leaves in the trees and Elisa knew it was almost time. She considered running farther into the forest, just running and running and running until she couldn't stand any longer, or until something more ferocious would come and eat her.
The soft shuffling sound of footsteps on dry leaves stopped her heart momentarily. No, it was impossible! They couldn't be coming so soon! Elisa fell back on her hands, uncertain of where to go or what to do. She scrabbled backwards until her back hit the scratchy bark of an ancient tree, and she held still, her eyes clenched shut. She didn't want to see them, she didn't want to know what they would do to her.
She didn't want to die.
She balled up as tightly as she could, hugging her knees so hard she thought they would surely break, her head tucked down and bloody brown locks hiding her tear-and-blood-streaked face from the world.
Crunch…crunch…crunch…
The footsteps were coming closer quickly. Peeking slightly above her knees, Elisa saw the bloody trail she had left. She jerked her head back down quickly so as not to catch the scent again. She sniffled, thankful that her sense of smell was muffled.
Closer, closer, through the trees, into her clearing…
And they stopped.
Elisa was shivering now, and a slight whimper escaped her. Tears dripped down her face.
"I'm sorry," she said in a soft, hoarse voice. "I'm sorry, I…I didn't mean to do it…"
She heard a small shuffle, as if the person was shifting on their feet. Then the footsteps advanced, slowly, and Elisa noticed that this was only one person, not an angry, disgusted mob. But she wouldn't spare even a peek, as if by simply keeping her eyes closed would make her invisible to whoever was there.
When the footsteps were right beside her she was shaking so badly it hurt. Her entire body was tensed, and her nerves were on fire, anticipating whatever was about to happen to her. Please let it be fast, please don't let it hurt…please…I'm sorry…
She jumped hard and let out a muffled yelp as the lightest of touches brushed past her left shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
But as the touch connected with her right shoulder, and she realized an arm was squeezing her gently, a new scent wafted towards her, something that contrasted brightly against the blood and dirt. She smelled another, someone like her. It was hard to know how she knew it, but it had to be true.
Scared, feeling sick to her stomach, Elisa lifted her head only the slightest bit, and she saw, out of the corner of her eye, a boy. A pale, fragile looking boy with shaggy, sandy-brown hair and shadows beneath his eyes. He was giving her a sympathetic and mourning look, as if he knew exactly how she felt. She lifted her head higher, her eyes pleading. "I'm sorry."
The sixth-year boy nodded and squeezed her again. "I know," he said softly. "I know…"
"What do I do?" Elisa asked shakily, her throat tightening.
"Dumbledore will know," he answered, wrapping his other arm around her and hugging her to him. "It's alright. It'll be okay…"
Elisa held on tightly as another sob rose in her chest. She buried her face in his arms and cried as he tried to soothe her. He knew. He knew because he was just like her, and she had never known it. She had never been alone.
As he calmed her, tried to reassure her, she whispered, "Thank you Remus."