Author's Note: WELL. I lied again didn't I .

Here's the second to last chapter for everyone who cares to read after so many months. I finally was able to check my email (no internet at my house mind you) and to my surprise there was one piece of mail out of 76 or so that wasn't junk. I read it and it was review! I'll tell you, I was flummoxed. I decided to update just because of it!

One more chapter to go, and this fiction will be complete. I've talked to my beta about doing a sequel that takes place after the fifth book. Well, it'll be after the sixth book now, and it'll focus on Remus and his duties to the Order. Cadley, will of course appear in it. And hopefully, she'll appear less of a snob and selfish than she is in this story. She's growing up, don't worry. You'll see her fully mature and totally the adult she needs to be in the sequel. She'll help Remus come to grips with his own life.

Thinking about the next chapter makes me teary-eye'd, it won't be a kind one.

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The pain was bearable, cramps and twinges merely. Something close to what I might have gone through if I was a normal woman. Unfortunately, I am not and had already begun to notice the changes. Brushing my hair this morning, I had noticed it had grown thicker almost as if my very touch willed I had spent them trying to calm my nerves more than impress my house elf.

I didn't need to go open my bedroom door, or go downstairs to know what Golby was doing. Through the stone and wood I could hear his every movement; his toenails on the wood paneling, his self-mumbling, and the clank of the pans he was handling. And if I were brave enough to keep my eyes open, I'd be able to see every stitch in the quilt. Mayhap even smell some trace of my mother's perfume in it.

But, I am not.

I stayed curled underneath my covers, unsuccessfully ignoring Golby, and the growing sensitivity of my senses. Sundown would start it all, when the horizon finally hid the last rays of lights. I shuddered and tried to block out the image I'd conjured. Two decades wasn't long enough to strip the terror away; Golby moved from the kitchen to the hallway.

The stairs softly creaked under his footsteps, and I cringed, but at least I wasn't subject to his toenails again.

"Mistress," he called out, pushing the door open. The hinges screamed and it was all I could do to clenched my teeth together against the noise. The house elf stuck his ancient face beneath my covers before pulling them off completely. "Golby has lunch."

I recoiled from him, nose instantly taking in the freshly washed smell of his apron to the spices that hung to his very skin. I used the corner of her pillowcase to wipe my watering eyes. "It smells like you've more of my breakfast on you then what'll be in the bowl," I commented wispily.

"Golby knows, Ma'am." I opened her eyes in time to catch Golby's sorrowed look, and my heart sunk. The house elf had never miss-predicted my transformations. Not that a single look at the moon wouldn't dispel my doubts. "Mistress, you must eat everything. Golby will go fetch something for your eyes, and then Golby will bring you to Mungo's."

The food was left untouched, and I watched the house elf leave. Everything about me felt heavy, as if I had taken a sedative. Except, my thoughts weren't quieting, if anything they worked in overtime remembering every detail of my last transformation.

The cold floor had felt nice against my feverish skin, the room had been dark to save my eyes from the pain, and there had been no escape. And I hadn't begun to transform until I had stepped into that ward. My eyes hadn't twinged or flinched at sunlight, nor was I normally able to hear my own house settle into its foundation.

I could hear the cloth Golby had wrapped over his feet scrap the stairs as he came back to take care of me. I was supposed to be at St. Mungo's already, not sitting in bed letting lunch get cold. The house elf opened the door, announcing that he had brought some black felt to tie around my face.

"Golby."

"Yes Mistress?"

"What time is it?"

"Golby thinks only a little past noon. Why, Mistress?"

As I pulled herself out of bed, I felt something shift inside my chest. The monster inside of me was stirring hours before night fell, and I hadn't considered it. The house elf helped me pull my curtains apart, and without surveying the garden below, my eyes locked on the gray mass hanging in the sky. The moon was as full as it could be, staring down at her and challenging the sun's claim to the day. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as Golby screeched in alarm.

"Legs! Mistress's legs." I looked away from the cause of my discomfort and found my house elf using his apron to dab at cuts that were appearing on my legs.

"ARE YOU DUMB GOLBY? GET OUT OF HERE." This was how it started. Sitting inside of St. Mungo's, I'd feel the weight of two people on my shoulders, and slowly my personality would change. My human self would give way to the monster that lurked beneath the surface, just waiting for the strength to emerge and wreak havoc. Blood lust was a werewolf's game, and horror and fear was what it wanted.

The house elf jumped away from my as if I had thrown him, removing himself from the room with only a second look back. I yelled after him to make sure he stayed away.

I heard ripping, and the scars on my hands turned fresh. My angry screams at Golby's foolishness turned to a little girl's terror as a monster long-gone crashed through brush to reach her. Bruises erupted across my arms and legs as the werewolf flung my nine-year-old self from the swing set and effortlessly tossed her like a bag of sand. My hands bled from a useless defense, and bites and scratching found their mark.

But through my father's spell casting and the pain I had felt, I had the presence of mind to know that the werewolf I feared most was the one I was turning into.

Beneath my skin muscles strained, growing for the monster as it pushed away my humanity. Bones thickened and strengthened to support the extra bulk, and I suffered all the more as my nerves frayed and brought every painful movement to my brain. Standing there, stooped over in an effort to stop the hurt, I felt herself grow taller, felt my unnatural hunch change into the animal's sloping lurch.

A ragged screech reached my ears as my face contorted, my nose widening and pulling out against skin very much used to a human shape. The scratches that had appeared grew as well, giving the snout less resistance as it came into being. Despite the pain already gripping my consciousness, it grew to a searing magnitude as the monster's pelt took root, and my human mind was cleaved and stretched. I fought, trying to grapple onto the memories of family, and human habits, but shred by shred was torn away from my grip. Cadley no longer held control of my body, and I cried out in anguish as her last leash on my life was jerked away from her.

Huddled in the spice cabinet in the kitchen, the house elf hid away. A monster tore his mistress's room apart, ruined everything she held valuable. He was angry, unable to help her, or at least make sure her most favourite things went untouched. The sound of books ripping and the harsh roar of the monster sent the house elf quivering.

He had sat here listening to her crying as the monster took over. He hadn't obeyed her orders completely and had watched the first steps of her transformation. A house elf couldn't leave his mistress just bleeding. But as she had begun her true changing, terror had ripped him away from the room. Golby had launched himself into the spice cabinet, huddling under the bags of cinnamon his mistress bought. His mistress loved cinnamon in everything.

Golby knew that the Abernathy's were far enough away from their neighbours to ensure privacy, but the screams his mistress had let out, and the screeching the monster was roaring had to have reached the other wizarding houses. Perhaps wizards would come and save his mistress.

The werewolf found that the door, however closed it was, couldn't keep it in the room. The house elf flinched as he heard it clatter down the stairs. It lurched down the stairs, ripping portraits and decorations for the wall with every step. Some of the paintings shrieked in protest, demanding why the monster was in a house as noble as the Abernathy's. Even from the few moving portraits they had in the house, Golby and his mistress's parents had been careful never to allow the portraits to know about her secret. It had been easier that way.

The spices hadn't been enough to stop the werewolf from finding him, and Golby squealed, terrified, as the monster tore the door away from the pantry. The house elf pushed back against the back of the closet as it swiped against him, and it caught the apron he wore. The garment ripped and the monster shook it away in frustration, giving the house elf time to leap over the creature. With a flick of his wrist, Golby had the apron tangled around the werewolf, terrorizing it and sending it into a fresh rage as he flew away from the kitchen. Despite him using forbidden magic, the werewolf was after him, apron and all, without a second thought.

His mistress was dead inside that thing. He would save her, be a good house elf, if she could not save herself. The house elf ran towards the front door bent on escape and felt the house's response. The door flew open it his command, but the house's spells dragged on him, trying to keep him in his servitude. He didn't want to leave his mistress; he wanted to save her home!

A third flick was the charm, and the house let go of him, and he stumbled down the front steps, heaving himself towards a side gate. In the side garden, he could stay one step ahead of the monster, and keep his mistress's things from ruin.

Golby screeched as the air around him filled with wizards, all of which held their wands aloft, and pointed at him. "NO, GO AWAY. MY MISTRESS IS COMING!" The werewolf was already bounding around the house, and instantly, he felt its attention move from him to bigger prey. He reached and grabbed an Auror by the leg. "Do not kill her! Masters cannot kill her!"

The house elf watched through streaming eyes as the strange wizards returned his mistress's attacks, their magic far more effective than his own. "Do not kill her," he cried out loudly, hands still attached to the Auror's robes. The Auror kicked him aside without a word.

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Author's Note: Truly, thank you for reading Cadley's story this far.

By the way, I reposted this chapter because I was a moron and submitted it in third person. Forgot the the first seven chapters were all first person somehow. Wee.