Small note here…
I looked over the reviews and noticed that I totally forgot to upload chapter TWO! So those of you that have been reading this have missed a whole – and very important – chapter. Please go back and look it over as some of the things in the future might not make sense otherwise.
Saturday, April 11 – 12:30 pm
He was late. Roarke was on time and Liam was late. Typical. She knew she looked very silly sitting all alone for half an hour in a crowded tavern with only ordering water. Roarke now wished she hadn't told the bartender she was waiting on someone, as now it would be clear to him, and everyone he might chose to tell, that she had been stood up.
With one last glance at her watch, she decided that she had waited long enough. Trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, Roarke made her way to the door and headed down the Muggle street. She was so angry with Liam that she had to do something to take her mind off of this dreadful day.
Insensitive prat!
She rounded a corner to find herself alone and unobserved. With a soft pop, she Disapparated from the street and Apparated in front of her parent's home in Devon. She wanted to talk to her mother. Roarke didn't normally talk to her mother about men, but this was a special case. Besides, Liam wasn't exactly her boyfriend. Right now, Roarke just needed another adult female that might possibly understand the inconsistencies of men.
She opened the door to the cottage and was met by the cheerful voice of her younger sister. "Hi, Roarke! Mum said you might stop in today!"
"Annie? What are you doing here?"
"It's the Easter Holiday. We have the week off."
"Oh, of course."
"What's wrong? You look upset."
"I am." Roarke peeked into her father's study but didn't see him. That was curious, as Remus always spent the day after the full moon relaxing in his study. Her mother was also nowhere to be seen. "Where's mum?"
Annie's face fell. "She's upstairs with daddy. He's still in bed."
Roarke frowned in concern. "What happened?"
"Just a bad night. You know, with the moon at Perigee."
Roarke's heart skipped a beat. "It was?"
"Don't tell me you forgot it was a full moon last night?"
"No…never. But I…I didn't realize…"
Two terms the Lupin children learned early in life were perigee and apogee. Full moon's came every twenty-eight days. The degree of perigee and apogee changed from night to night. But the moon was only ever at its highest degree of perigee twice a year. And last night was that time.
Oh God…Liam! No wonder he didn't show up!
"Roarke, are you OK?"
Roarke snapped out of her thoughts with a powerful need to go and make sure Liam was all right, but she hadn't the first clue as to where he lived. They had never exchanged addresses. He had never even mentioned which part of London he lived in – that is, if he lived in London at all.
"I'm fine, I just…I wanted to talk to mum about something, but I think that now…"
The thought hit her suddenly. Her father was in charge of helping Liam; he helped Liam when he got caught trying to leave the country – Liam told her so! Daddy HAS to know where he lives! He HAS to!
Without an explanation to her sister, Roarke entered her father's study and began rummaging around on the desk.
"What are you looking for?" Annie asked from the hall.
"Daddy's been working on a case and I thought I would help him with it." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.
"A case? You mean, like a court case?"
"Yes. Why? Do you know anything about it?"
"He was working on it yesterday when I got here. Mum told him to put it away as it would only make him more restless for the transformation."
"Do you know where he put it?"
"Yeah, it's just right there." Annie pointed to a scroll lying on the table next to the sofa. The label read, "Liam Zetter", much to Roarke's delight.
"Thank you!" She carefully unrolled the parchment enough to find the address written on the top, though she was tempted to read on and see what her father's notes on Liam were like. She resisted, and just checked the address: 1351 Rosings Street, apartment 3F. "Annie, can you do me a favor and not tell Mum and Dad about this?"
Annie smirked. "Why shouldn't I? You're not doing anything wrong, are you? I mean, other than going through daddy's papers."
"I'm not doing anything wrong, but if you forget to mention that you saw me in here I promise to give you all my chocolate on Easter next Sunday."
"I'm not four years old anymore, Roarke. Chocolate doesn't have the same appeal."
"OK then…How about I let you borrow my new dress robes?"
That caught Annie's attention. "The Lilac ones?"
Roarke nodded. "I know there is a ball at the end of the year. I bet Griffin would love to see you in them."
Annie blushed just enough to confirm Roarke's suspicions that the Idiot Boy may have finally caught the attention he craved from her sister. "It's not like that between Griffin and me."
"Oh it isn't? Have you told him that?"
Annie, who had been leaning against the door, stood up very straight. "You're trying to change the subject! Now I believe the agreement is one set of Lilac dress robes in exchange for my silence? I agree to your terms and expect the robes to be delivered to me in plenty of time for the ball."
"Done!" Roarke said shaking her sister's hand.
1:30pm that same day
Roarke couldn't believe Liam lived in such a dreadful place. It was drab and dirty, and the witch at the front desk was the perfect example of why Muggles thought all witches were old and ugly. Roarke was disgusted that the Beast Division actually considered places such as this suitable for their work. Once more, it just showed her how unfairly lycanthropes were treated; a crumbling filthy old Muggle building was all they were worth. She even suspected that the Ministry felt that they were actually being magnanimous in providing such accommodations.
She went to the third floor and lifted her hand to knock on the door, but hesitated. Now that she was here, she wasn't too sure she wanted to disturb Liam. He was probably asleep, and it was best that he stay that way. But Roarke felt too much guilt to just walk away. She needed to not only make sure that he was going to be fine, but she needed to apologize for ever thinking that he would stand her up. This was her fault. She had suggested meeting after the full moon. She should have known exactly what the moon would do to him last night.
She lightly rapped on the door and waited. Nothing. She knocked again, this time harder, and pressed her ear to the door. She couldn't hear anything going on in the room for a long time. Then, very faintly, she heard a deep moan.
"Liam?" she said into the door. "Liam is that you?"
Roarke heard a muffled crash followed by another moan. Then silence.
"Liam, it's Roarke. Are you all right? May I come in?"
Roarke pressed her ear hard against the door, hoping to hear an answer, but didn't. She twisted the door knob in her hand, but it wouldn't open. She pulled out her wand quickly. "Alohamorah!" The door came open and Roarke peered around the side to look into the flat. It wasn't much better looking than the rest of the building, but then Liam had had a rough night. There was no sign of him anywhere.
"Liam, where are you?"
A sob came from the kitchen.
Roarke crossed the room and looked into the very small kitchen, hoping to find Liam uninjured. He was lying on the floor, his robes pulled tightly around him. Bit of glass lay scattered around him. His eyes were closed and he made no effort to stand up or even move.
"Oh God. Are you all right? Of course you aren't all right. You wouldn't be on the floor if you were all right."
Liam groaned.
Roarke bent down and touched his face to find that it was cold. She reached for the closest hand to find that it was even colder. "You're freezing! You feel like ice! Liam, you have to get to bed!"
"I know," he managed softly with a shiver. "I can't move. It hurts too much." He barley moved his mouth when he spoke.
"Let me help you. You'll catch your death if you don't get up off this cold floor."
"Can't kill me…maybe silver…"
"What?" He wasn't making any sense.
"Silver…injected in the blood…that's how you kill a werewolf."
Roarke didn't know how to respond to that. Why was he even talking about this?
"Liam, let me help you to the bed. You're talking nonsense."
"I can't die of the cold," Liam explained, his voice hardly a whisper. "Silver…actually…doesn't sound so bad right now."
"That's it, you're getting up off this floor if I have to levitate you myself!"
"NO!" Liam demanded. "The cold…helps…feels better."
"A soft bed would feel even better than the hard floor." Without further discussion, Roarke took out her wand, conjured a stretcher, and started to move Liam onto it. She had started to lift his arm when he let out a deep cry of pain. Roarke stopped immediately.
Liam whimpered. "Christ…" He took several deep breaths and opened his eyes for the first time. He found Roarke's gaze easily. "I just want this to stop."
Roarke nodded sadly. "I know. Please, let me help you to the bed."
"I never thought…" Liam started, taking a few shallow breaths after only a few words, "…that a beautiful girl…would try to get me in bed…and I would refuse."
Roarke gasped. He's joking? He's passed out on the floor in agony…and he's joking?
"Just go slow," Liam said, finally offering her a shaky hand.
It was indeed a slow process. Several minutes were spent getting Liam onto the stretcher while avoiding the glass. Roarke placed it as close to his body as she could, so that he wouldn't have to move any further than necessary. She knew Liam was trying desperately not to cry out in pain, but every now and then he would sob or moan. Liam's breathing was shallow one moment, and haggard the next. Roarke wasn't sure if he had the necessary ingredients in this spare flat, but she knew he was in need of a healing potion.
Once he was fully on the stretcher, Roarke was able to levitate him easily over to the bed. Then she slowly lowered him onto the bed and cast a spell to make the stretcher vanish. Roarke tried to pull a blanket up over him, but he shook his head no. He wasn't in the most comfortable position, but he didn't move except to free his half hidden face. "Thank you," he said weakly.
"Don't thank me," she said moving away from the bed.
Roarke was surprised to see Liam reach out and take her hand. His grip was loose, but it was obvious he was trying to keep her next to him. "Don't go," he pleaded.
Roarke slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going anywhere." With her free hand she gently brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. "Did you hurt yourself at all? I mean, is anything broken? Are you bleeding?"
Liam gave a small shake of his head. "Don't think so."
They sat in silence for a while – Roarke stroking his fringe and Liam slowly breathing. She thought he had fallen asleep, but was mistaken when she saw his eyes open suddenly. "I'm sorry…I missed our date."
"Don't be. I should never have agreed to meeting you today."
"You know…I'm pretty strong. And I've been hurt before. But this…" Liam licked his dry lips. "I keep thinking it will get better…easier…that I'll get used to it." His voice was very raspy. Roarke knew he shouldn't be talking, but she also understood that he needed to talk. So she let him. "That first transformation…oh God…I thought I would die. My bones…God…and my skin was on fire. But it was just one night. Right? And I thought…surely the next one will be easier. But it wasn't. And neither was the next one. Five times I've been through this now. And I'll be damned if last night didn't hurt worse than the rest!"
Roarke bit her bottom lip, not knowing what to say. Was there a correct something to say? She had only heard her father speak of the pain a few times. Even then, he never went into details. He only ever said that it was painful, but that he would survive, and he distinctly discouraged coddling from the children; only her mother could get away with small doses of fussing in the privacy of their bedroom. Roarke now wondered how she did it month after month with never a word of anger or sadness.
"The pull…I never understood what people meant when they talked about the pull of the moon. Well…I do now! Bloody thing wasn't even visible and yet it pulled on me all damn day! I usually don't feel it until an hour or so before I transform. But yesterday…I felt it all day. Pulling…tearing me apart…but I wouldn't transform. It wouldn't happen. The pain wouldn't stop! Hours and hours…"
He gave a soft sob which turned into a cough, but shed no tears. "And when I did…transform…I couldn't get away from it. I usually hide…in the kitchen…there are no windows in there. I hate looking at it. The moon. But I couldn't get away last night. I…howled…like a bloody caged animal!" He buried his face in the pillow on the verge of breaking down.
Roarke smoothed his hair again. "The moon was at perigee last night."
"What?'
"Perigee. That's why it hurt so much."
Liam looked up at her. "What in bloody hell is perigee?"
"Well, it's all very complicated to explain without charts and such, but it has to do with the fact that the earth rotates on an ellipse, not a circle. Not only that, but the axis of the earth is tilted. So when the moon orbits around the earth, there are times when it is actually closer to the earth. At those times, the moon looks larger in the night shy. And if the orbit of the earth is positioned just right, the sunlight reflecting off the moon is very bright."
"So?"
"Last night, the moon was closest to the earth and at it's brightest."
"And that's perigee?"
"Well, the size of the moon and the amount of light reflected off of it varies from day to day. The percent of perigee was at its highest last night."
"And how often does this happen?" Liam asked with a fear behind his voice.
"Twice a year."
Liam groaned again burring his head in the pillow. "And here I thought changing into a wolf every thirty days was the worst of it!"
"Twenty-eight," Roarke said without thinking.
"Huh?"
"Well…er…the moon is full…er…every twenty-eight days…not thirty."
"For once I'd like you to give me some good news."
"Well, twice a year the moon is at apogee."
"And what's that?"
"The opposite of perigee. Daddy says that the transformations are easiest on those nights."
"Now see…if you told me that on those nights…I wouldn't transform at all…that would be good news." Liam closed his eyes in exhaustion, and there was another long pause in the conversation. "How did you find me?" he said, suddenly opening his eyes again. "I never told you where I lived."
"My father. He has your address."
"And he just gave it to you?"
"N…no…he had it in his office."
"I see. So he doesn't know you're here?" Roarke shook her head no. "And I suppose, being the perfect werewolf that he is, your father was out picking flowers with your mother this morning."
The comment stung Roarke's heart, yet she responded softly but firmly, "No, actually, he is just as bad off as you are. Only he did make it into bed more easily, I suspect," she finished with a slight smile
Liam closed his eyes again, smiling weakly himself. He looked so peaceful just lying there, but Roarke knew he was still in pain – and very weak. "Have you eaten anything today?"'
Something between a cough and laugh erupted from Liam's body. "Roarke, I couldn't get up off the floor! Do you honestly think I managed to get to food?"
"Then let me fix you something," Roarke said standing up. At least this would give her a task that could actually do some good for him. "Do you like vegetable soup? It always makes me feel better when I'm ill."
"Vegetable?"
"Well…depending on what you have in your kitchen."
"I just had the worst night of my entire life…and you want to give me…vegetables?"
Roarke shrugged.
"Pavlova…with cream…LOTS of cream."
"Er…" Roarke stammered. "I don't know what that is."
"And passion fruit…or even just some strawberries or bananas."
"Liam, I don't know how to make that."
"Or steamed pudding…apple crumble…grandma used to make…" He was slowly drifting off into a light sleep, mumbling about the sweets he enjoyed in his childhood.
Roarke hadn't a clue as to what his first request was. She figured she had a pretty good idea as to what apple crumble was, but that always took a while to bake. Steamed pudding was tricky. He didn't know what he was talking about, asking for sweets. Soup was the best option. It's what her father always had after a full moon. Question was, did Liam have any in the flat? After one more glance down at Liam. She decided he would be asleep for a while and headed into the kitchen to look in the cupboards.
3:30 that afternoon
"I don't like soup!" he said for the third time.
"Well you have to eat something!"
"I asked for Pavlova."
"And I told you that I don't know what that is!"
Liam growled in frustration.
"Besides, you don't have much in that kitchen of yours. I fixed what you had."
"Don't I have anything sweet? I know I have to have something."
"You need healthy food right now, not junk."
"Thank you – mother – but I would really like something sweet!"
"FINE!" She tossed the spoon onto the tray and slammed the tray on the bedside table. Very angrily, she opened his cupboard and found what she needed to make a cake. She wasn't a very good cook, but if he wanted sweet, he was going to get sweet.
5:00 that evening
"Liam," she said nudging him. "Liam?" He was asleep again. "Liam!" She jabbed her hand into his side and he woke up, startled.
"What?"
"Your cake." She held out a very lopsided looking cake covered in chocolate icing.
Liam looked at it skeptically. "Did you make that…all by yourself?"
Roarke rolled her eyes. "Are you going to eat it or not?"
"Is it any good?"
"That's it, I give up! I am trying to do something nice for you and it's just not good enough!"
She placed the cake next to the soup on the bedside table and headed back into the kitchen.
"Roarke, I'm sorry," said Liam, suppressing a laugh. "I'll eat it. I need a fork though."
She shot a nasty look at him. "You know, if you weren't really sick, I'd have to hurt you."
Liam smiled sweetly. "Does that mean you'll bring me a fork? Please?"
She came back to his bed with a knife, fork, and a plate. She cut off a small piece and handed a fork full to Liam. He tasted it hesitantly, but then smiled. "Not bad."
"I'm glad you like it."
The first piece of cake was gone in no time, and Liam was asking for a second slice. Roarke gave in, but refused him his third piece. She demanded that he get some rest while she cleaned up the kitchen. Not wanting to cause another argument, Liam agreed and was asleep in no time.
Once she was finished cleaning up the mess she had made in the kitchen, she stood in the living room wondering what to do next. She didn't want to leave him just yet. Liam didn't have his strength back, but she needed to do something. Looking around at the messy room, she decided to pick up the clutter and straighten the room. Seldom had Roarke known a man to actually keep his living area tidy. Except for her father. He was very organized.
What is it with men and the inability to put their dirty socks away?
Socks were everywhere - under the couch, by the door, in the bathroom. There were so many that Roarke thought he must just always buy a new pair everyday, since it looked like he never washed the dirty ones. She collected them, and the other bits of clothing on the floor, and placed them in a basket in the bathroom.
The cleaning didn't stop there. She dusted a little, as the room needed it desperately, and started organizing the books on the shelf. There weren't many, just several books on architecture and art. Her father's book on lycanthropy sat on top of a sketch pad. She resisted the urge to flip through and look at the sketches once more. He might see that as an invasion of privacy. Picking up socks was one thing. Looking at his personal drawings was another.
She found his wand under some papers on the coffee table. She first thought it irresponsible for hi to have left it here, but then changed her mind. He said he usually spent the full moon in the kitchen. This was bout as far away from the kitchen as you could get. Maybe he left it here as a way to protect it, so the wolf wouldn't damage it.
By the time she got everything done and the room was in satisfactory condition, it was nearly 8:00 at night. Liam was still sleeping soundly. She wondered if she should leave, but then decided against it. She should stay here until he wakes up. It would be rude to just walk out. What if he really did hurt himself last night and he just couldn't tell?
Her gaze fell upon the sketchpad once more. Maybe just a quick peek. I've seen one…I doubt he would mind too terribly if I looked at the others.
She grabbed up the pad, curled up on the over stuffed couch with a blanket, and began turning pages. There were pictures of random people and places. She recognized Mr. Williams and the Muggle clock, Big Ben. Then came the drawing of the speaker the other night. He hadn't finished it. She turned to the next page and gasped. It was a picture of her. Liam had drawn her – and she looked beautiful.
Very quickly, she closed the pad and tossed it on the coffee table. She picked up a book on witches of the Australian Outback and forced herself to read. Her mind wouldn't focus on the text, however. It just kept floating back to the picture in the sketchpad. Soon, her eyelids grew heavy and she forgot that she was trying to read. With a yawn and a stretch, Roarke fell asleep.
