Werewolf-Part 9-Elizabeth's POV
I was sure that I recognised her, as soon as she opened the door and
stepped into the room. Her piercing blue eyes with long black lashes seemed
especially familiar, but I couldn't think who she was, at first. Her hair
was the wrong colour. It didn't match her eyelashes. It was so unnaturally
blonde that it was almost white, very different to my own, darker, golden
form of blonde.
Of course, she wouldn't have hair like min, no-one does. My hair is really a dark blonde, but it looks more silvery grey. I'm not old, that isn't the reason. I'm only fourteen. Or one hundred and twenty-six, depending on how you look at it. Anyway, I look fourteen, despite my silvery hair, which is also translucent, and hasn't grown for the last one hundred and twelve years, or maybe less. Someone once told me, years ago, that the hair on a body keeps growing, long after they're dead and buried. Just thinking about this makes me shudder, and lift my icy translucent hand, up to my icy, translucent neck. If I could, I think I'd be sick. I don't like thinking about corpses, especially not my own.
Where was I? Oh yes, the girl. She went up to the desk, and spoke to the receptionist, Mrs Skidmore. At first I couldn't hear what was going on, but I don't think I missed anything important. When I had glided over there, they had barely begun their conversation.
"I need to speak to the head of the Committee. She said, fairly calmly. "Please." She added, as an afterthought, thought it was obvious from her tone of voice that she hated the Committee. She was still very polite to Mrs Skidmore.
"Er, he's very busy, dear," Mrs Skidmore said slowly. "Is it important?" She spoke clearly, pronouncing every word, as if she was talking to a young child who couldn't understand her easily. She had a habit of treating people who were younger than her like babies. I never spoke to her, in fact I never spoke to anyone at the committee, I hate them. But I think that Mrs Skidmore was fairly nice, apart from that.
"Yes, it is important." Said the girl. "In fact, it's a matter of [i]life or death[/i]." She paused for a moment, as if she wasn't sure what to say. Then she pulled a face, and said, abruptly: "It's about Harriet Rivers."
Mrs Skidmore looked blank for a moment, then recognised the name. I knew whom she was talking about, immediately. Harriet was a girl who had escaped from the Committee, that is, the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, over a month ago, and no-body had seen her since. I say girl, though most people wouldn't, because I understand her, more than anyone else could, even though I don't know her. I saw her briefly, both times. I nearly went to talk to her on the second occasion, but at the time she was sitting in a cage, sobbing, so I didn't think it would be the best time to go and talk to her. I never know what to say to people when they're crying, because I've never been the sensitive type. Of course, I haven't cried for 112 years- but that'd be impossible, I mean, how could I?- Even before then I hadn't cried since I was about ten and I just don't know what to do. Then again, the first time would probably have been even worse, because she didn't know what was happening. I couldn't have spoken to her, and acted as if everything was OK. I knew exactly what was likely to happen to her, because I had experienced it myself, and it was not pleasant. I keep doing this don't I? I go off on the subject of death, and corpses, and before you know it I've been here for hours!
Anyway, the girl obviously had some information about Harriet, which I guessed would tell them where she was, so they could go and get her. hoped not, but it was the obvious explaination. I always said to my friends at Hogwarts that I was a pessimist. Then Rebekah would tell me off for using long words. One strange thing was that this girl had exactly the same eyes as Harriet. That was who she reminded me of. In fact, apart from the hair (Harriet's was jet black) they could have been twins, or even the same person.
"I suppose you can go through, then." Said Mrs Skidmore. "it's the first door on the left, she pointed down a corridor.
"Thank-you." The girl said, quietly. She turned round, and started walking, very slowly, in the direction that the receptionist had indicated. Suddenly, I think I went ever so slightly insane. I swooped, yes swooped, across the hall, and stood in front of her, blocking her path, trying to look as solid as possible.
"Are you going to tell them where Harriet is?" I asked. I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything, if she said yes. I mean, I could try to convince her not to, but physically, I was helpless. She looked as if she was trying to suppress both a giggle, and also, not to cry.
"No," She was practically hyperventilating. "I'm trying to make the Committee change their minds about .her." I smiled. I was certain it wouldn't work. I knew very well just how much the Committee, and indeed, the whole wizarding world, hated werewolves.
"Who are you." I* asked, curiously. "Your remind me of Harriet, I saw her briefly when she was here, you know." She rocked backwards and forwards, like house elf, trying to decide whether they should do something or not. In the end, she decided that she trusted be, and leant forwards, She cupped her hands, and whispered something in my ear.
"I am Harriet!"
I had to stop myself from shouting out, instead, I contented myself, with a loud angry whisper. "WHAT?!" I gasped. "What the hell are you doing here? You could be caught, and killed!" I forced myself not to shake my head so vigourously, because somehow, I felt that under the circumstances, it would not be very tactful to Harriet if my head fell of. The thought of it makes me sick, though I'm used to it. "Anyway, being alive, even as a werewolf, is preferable to being dead, even though I'm not a werewolf now."
"They don't transform as ghosts?" she asked. I nodded. Then she realised what she'd said. "Ohhhh." she looked awkward. "You... you're a, I mean, you were a werewolf too?"
"Yes." I nodded. "Death is the only cure for lycanthropy. Silver bullet, silver knife, silver axe." I closed my eyes for a second, feeling my eyes tingle, as if I was going to cry. Well I mean, I never properly cried, but I often had tears in my eyes. Harriet noticed. "It's OK." I said, slipping into the modern language which I had gradually adjusted to, over time. "Ghosts can't cry."
"I'm going in there now, anyway." she said. "I'm fed up of having to hide. There's a chance that I can be pardoned, and maybe change the laws altogether, and save other people like me." She strongly emphasised the word people. "Or, I might not be able to do anything, in which case, I lose everything." She paused. "Oh, one more thing, if you don't mind me asking." I nodded, she looked as if she thought I wouldn't want to answer whatever question she had to ask, but I couldn't think of anything that I wouldn't answer. Well, not anything relevant, that she would ask. "Did it hurt a lot?"
I shivered, even though my 'body' temperature was always colder than the air, thinking of the cold, yet burning sensation of a silver blade on my bare neck. To a werewolf, silver causes more pain than even the Cruciatus curse, but once it penetrates the skin, it kills more quickly than any normal axe would. "Yes." I told her frankly. "A lot." I wanted to scare her, to stop her going through with this crazy idea which would surely get her killed. But I saw her face when I said that, and she looked really terrified, but I could tell, by something in her eyes, that no matter what, she was going to do it anyway. I decided I might as well comfort her a little. "It'll be over quickly though." I added.
"OK then." She said, chewing her bottom lip nervously. "Bye..er..?"
"Elizabeth." I said.
"Bye then, Elizabeth." I felt sad, and she must have noticed that, because she added, "Don't worry, I'll be alright." She turned, and rapped clearly on the door three times with her fist.
"Come in." announced a deep voice, that filled me with dread.
She opened the door and stepped in, but before she closed the door, I followed. 'After all,' I thought, 'They can't kill me twice.'
"What do you want?" Said the head of the Committee, coldly, before he even looked up from his desk. "And you-werewolf ghost- get out of my office!"
I was about to argue back to him, in a way I would never have been allowed to in my own time, but I thought it would be better to stay calm, and not make him angry, which would only make things worse. I moved to the back of the room near the door, and amazingly, he left it at that.
"Well?" he said to Harriet, "What do you want."
"I wanted to.er.um." she hadn't thought of what to say. "She pulled a battered book out of her pocket and said, "I wanted to ask you if you'd read this."
He read the title out loud. "'Hairy snout, Human heart'?" he sneered, then laughed. "Do you think I would read that? It was written by a werewolf, you know, a monster." He glanced in my direction, and I winced. The old insults still hurt a lot.
Harriet continued speaking. "I just wondered how you can deal with werewolves here, and send them to be executed, without having read this, without understanding them."
"Why do you care?" he asked. "The more werewolves we destroy, the safer the world is and you are less likely to be bitten. Why does it matter to you?"
She bit her lip, and a silly thought popped into my head, as they always do in serious moments. I thought 'Oh no, her lip's been bitten by a werewolf!' why wasn't funny. It's a terrible joke, and it's a good thing I didn't say it.
"It's because of that girl." She said. "Harriet Rivers." 'All true so far' I thought. "I read in the newspaper about her, and what you will to to her if you catch her, and I think that's disgusting."
"You know nothing about the situation." He said firmly. "That werewolf is a murdering beast, and must be destroyed!"
"But she's a girl-like me," Persisted Harriet. "Even if she is a werewolf as well. I don't think she could control what she was doing. I doubt she meant to kill anyone."
I could see that if Harriet kept on at this rate, she really wouldn't be in control of herself, again, and might end up revealing who she was. I decided it was time I had my say.
"She's right." I said, stepping forwards, feeling braver and sort of more solid than I had done for a long time. "I am a human being.or at least I was, and now I'm a ghost, I have human form. If I wasn't human, surely I wouldn't look like this." This was nothing like the grand confrontation I had imagined and longed for over the past hundred years or so, but it still felt good! "Killing me like they did was evil. The same for all the others like me who were executed -murdered! I hadn't committed any crime. I had done nothing." I wasn't sure why I was going on about that, because it was too late to change what had happened in the past, though I'd love to see them apologise to me! I changed the subject to Harriet. "And it's just as bad if you kill Harriet, because although she did kill someone, she couldn't help it. And she's going to feel guilty though she shouldn't. because it's a natural Besides, I can't believe you're allowed to do this. In my time it was more acceptable, because capital punishment still existed in Britain, but times have changed. It can't be allowed!"
"It is perfectly legal." He said, with an expression on his face which showed clearly that he did not want to talk to me. "Werewolves aren't classed as humans, so the Ministry fully supports out policy to execute any werewolves who kill someone. We've only failed to meet our target once in the last 20 years, and it will not happen again.
Harriet looked as if she was about to start crying, and I probably would have done, if I hadn't grown used to over a century of this kind of treatment. I still hated it so much. Being called 'it', an object that couldn't understand anything they said, and now, just a statistic, a target of killing to be met. I saw we weren't going to change anything here, so I decided to take Harriet somewhere else, where they might help.
"Come on." I whispered. "It's a waste of time."
"But." She started to protest.
"Don't worry-I've got a better idea."
Of course, she wouldn't have hair like min, no-one does. My hair is really a dark blonde, but it looks more silvery grey. I'm not old, that isn't the reason. I'm only fourteen. Or one hundred and twenty-six, depending on how you look at it. Anyway, I look fourteen, despite my silvery hair, which is also translucent, and hasn't grown for the last one hundred and twelve years, or maybe less. Someone once told me, years ago, that the hair on a body keeps growing, long after they're dead and buried. Just thinking about this makes me shudder, and lift my icy translucent hand, up to my icy, translucent neck. If I could, I think I'd be sick. I don't like thinking about corpses, especially not my own.
Where was I? Oh yes, the girl. She went up to the desk, and spoke to the receptionist, Mrs Skidmore. At first I couldn't hear what was going on, but I don't think I missed anything important. When I had glided over there, they had barely begun their conversation.
"I need to speak to the head of the Committee. She said, fairly calmly. "Please." She added, as an afterthought, thought it was obvious from her tone of voice that she hated the Committee. She was still very polite to Mrs Skidmore.
"Er, he's very busy, dear," Mrs Skidmore said slowly. "Is it important?" She spoke clearly, pronouncing every word, as if she was talking to a young child who couldn't understand her easily. She had a habit of treating people who were younger than her like babies. I never spoke to her, in fact I never spoke to anyone at the committee, I hate them. But I think that Mrs Skidmore was fairly nice, apart from that.
"Yes, it is important." Said the girl. "In fact, it's a matter of [i]life or death[/i]." She paused for a moment, as if she wasn't sure what to say. Then she pulled a face, and said, abruptly: "It's about Harriet Rivers."
Mrs Skidmore looked blank for a moment, then recognised the name. I knew whom she was talking about, immediately. Harriet was a girl who had escaped from the Committee, that is, the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, over a month ago, and no-body had seen her since. I say girl, though most people wouldn't, because I understand her, more than anyone else could, even though I don't know her. I saw her briefly, both times. I nearly went to talk to her on the second occasion, but at the time she was sitting in a cage, sobbing, so I didn't think it would be the best time to go and talk to her. I never know what to say to people when they're crying, because I've never been the sensitive type. Of course, I haven't cried for 112 years- but that'd be impossible, I mean, how could I?- Even before then I hadn't cried since I was about ten and I just don't know what to do. Then again, the first time would probably have been even worse, because she didn't know what was happening. I couldn't have spoken to her, and acted as if everything was OK. I knew exactly what was likely to happen to her, because I had experienced it myself, and it was not pleasant. I keep doing this don't I? I go off on the subject of death, and corpses, and before you know it I've been here for hours!
Anyway, the girl obviously had some information about Harriet, which I guessed would tell them where she was, so they could go and get her. hoped not, but it was the obvious explaination. I always said to my friends at Hogwarts that I was a pessimist. Then Rebekah would tell me off for using long words. One strange thing was that this girl had exactly the same eyes as Harriet. That was who she reminded me of. In fact, apart from the hair (Harriet's was jet black) they could have been twins, or even the same person.
"I suppose you can go through, then." Said Mrs Skidmore. "it's the first door on the left, she pointed down a corridor.
"Thank-you." The girl said, quietly. She turned round, and started walking, very slowly, in the direction that the receptionist had indicated. Suddenly, I think I went ever so slightly insane. I swooped, yes swooped, across the hall, and stood in front of her, blocking her path, trying to look as solid as possible.
"Are you going to tell them where Harriet is?" I asked. I knew I wouldn't be able to do anything, if she said yes. I mean, I could try to convince her not to, but physically, I was helpless. She looked as if she was trying to suppress both a giggle, and also, not to cry.
"No," She was practically hyperventilating. "I'm trying to make the Committee change their minds about .her." I smiled. I was certain it wouldn't work. I knew very well just how much the Committee, and indeed, the whole wizarding world, hated werewolves.
"Who are you." I* asked, curiously. "Your remind me of Harriet, I saw her briefly when she was here, you know." She rocked backwards and forwards, like house elf, trying to decide whether they should do something or not. In the end, she decided that she trusted be, and leant forwards, She cupped her hands, and whispered something in my ear.
"I am Harriet!"
I had to stop myself from shouting out, instead, I contented myself, with a loud angry whisper. "WHAT?!" I gasped. "What the hell are you doing here? You could be caught, and killed!" I forced myself not to shake my head so vigourously, because somehow, I felt that under the circumstances, it would not be very tactful to Harriet if my head fell of. The thought of it makes me sick, though I'm used to it. "Anyway, being alive, even as a werewolf, is preferable to being dead, even though I'm not a werewolf now."
"They don't transform as ghosts?" she asked. I nodded. Then she realised what she'd said. "Ohhhh." she looked awkward. "You... you're a, I mean, you were a werewolf too?"
"Yes." I nodded. "Death is the only cure for lycanthropy. Silver bullet, silver knife, silver axe." I closed my eyes for a second, feeling my eyes tingle, as if I was going to cry. Well I mean, I never properly cried, but I often had tears in my eyes. Harriet noticed. "It's OK." I said, slipping into the modern language which I had gradually adjusted to, over time. "Ghosts can't cry."
"I'm going in there now, anyway." she said. "I'm fed up of having to hide. There's a chance that I can be pardoned, and maybe change the laws altogether, and save other people like me." She strongly emphasised the word people. "Or, I might not be able to do anything, in which case, I lose everything." She paused. "Oh, one more thing, if you don't mind me asking." I nodded, she looked as if she thought I wouldn't want to answer whatever question she had to ask, but I couldn't think of anything that I wouldn't answer. Well, not anything relevant, that she would ask. "Did it hurt a lot?"
I shivered, even though my 'body' temperature was always colder than the air, thinking of the cold, yet burning sensation of a silver blade on my bare neck. To a werewolf, silver causes more pain than even the Cruciatus curse, but once it penetrates the skin, it kills more quickly than any normal axe would. "Yes." I told her frankly. "A lot." I wanted to scare her, to stop her going through with this crazy idea which would surely get her killed. But I saw her face when I said that, and she looked really terrified, but I could tell, by something in her eyes, that no matter what, she was going to do it anyway. I decided I might as well comfort her a little. "It'll be over quickly though." I added.
"OK then." She said, chewing her bottom lip nervously. "Bye..er..?"
"Elizabeth." I said.
"Bye then, Elizabeth." I felt sad, and she must have noticed that, because she added, "Don't worry, I'll be alright." She turned, and rapped clearly on the door three times with her fist.
"Come in." announced a deep voice, that filled me with dread.
She opened the door and stepped in, but before she closed the door, I followed. 'After all,' I thought, 'They can't kill me twice.'
"What do you want?" Said the head of the Committee, coldly, before he even looked up from his desk. "And you-werewolf ghost- get out of my office!"
I was about to argue back to him, in a way I would never have been allowed to in my own time, but I thought it would be better to stay calm, and not make him angry, which would only make things worse. I moved to the back of the room near the door, and amazingly, he left it at that.
"Well?" he said to Harriet, "What do you want."
"I wanted to.er.um." she hadn't thought of what to say. "She pulled a battered book out of her pocket and said, "I wanted to ask you if you'd read this."
He read the title out loud. "'Hairy snout, Human heart'?" he sneered, then laughed. "Do you think I would read that? It was written by a werewolf, you know, a monster." He glanced in my direction, and I winced. The old insults still hurt a lot.
Harriet continued speaking. "I just wondered how you can deal with werewolves here, and send them to be executed, without having read this, without understanding them."
"Why do you care?" he asked. "The more werewolves we destroy, the safer the world is and you are less likely to be bitten. Why does it matter to you?"
She bit her lip, and a silly thought popped into my head, as they always do in serious moments. I thought 'Oh no, her lip's been bitten by a werewolf!' why wasn't funny. It's a terrible joke, and it's a good thing I didn't say it.
"It's because of that girl." She said. "Harriet Rivers." 'All true so far' I thought. "I read in the newspaper about her, and what you will to to her if you catch her, and I think that's disgusting."
"You know nothing about the situation." He said firmly. "That werewolf is a murdering beast, and must be destroyed!"
"But she's a girl-like me," Persisted Harriet. "Even if she is a werewolf as well. I don't think she could control what she was doing. I doubt she meant to kill anyone."
I could see that if Harriet kept on at this rate, she really wouldn't be in control of herself, again, and might end up revealing who she was. I decided it was time I had my say.
"She's right." I said, stepping forwards, feeling braver and sort of more solid than I had done for a long time. "I am a human being.or at least I was, and now I'm a ghost, I have human form. If I wasn't human, surely I wouldn't look like this." This was nothing like the grand confrontation I had imagined and longed for over the past hundred years or so, but it still felt good! "Killing me like they did was evil. The same for all the others like me who were executed -murdered! I hadn't committed any crime. I had done nothing." I wasn't sure why I was going on about that, because it was too late to change what had happened in the past, though I'd love to see them apologise to me! I changed the subject to Harriet. "And it's just as bad if you kill Harriet, because although she did kill someone, she couldn't help it. And she's going to feel guilty though she shouldn't. because it's a natural Besides, I can't believe you're allowed to do this. In my time it was more acceptable, because capital punishment still existed in Britain, but times have changed. It can't be allowed!"
"It is perfectly legal." He said, with an expression on his face which showed clearly that he did not want to talk to me. "Werewolves aren't classed as humans, so the Ministry fully supports out policy to execute any werewolves who kill someone. We've only failed to meet our target once in the last 20 years, and it will not happen again.
Harriet looked as if she was about to start crying, and I probably would have done, if I hadn't grown used to over a century of this kind of treatment. I still hated it so much. Being called 'it', an object that couldn't understand anything they said, and now, just a statistic, a target of killing to be met. I saw we weren't going to change anything here, so I decided to take Harriet somewhere else, where they might help.
"Come on." I whispered. "It's a waste of time."
"But." She started to protest.
"Don't worry-I've got a better idea."