"Aren't you going to ask where I've been?"
Silas glared at the frizzy brunette Hufflepuff, jutting out her bottom lip in an attempt to gain a reaction from her partner. "I was gone for over a week and you've nothing to say? No inquiries?"
"No, not really," she shrugged eyes glued to the pages of her modified Potions book, taking in the newly made instructions that would no doubt produce a potion above Snape's desire.
"Wait, where'd you even get that book," Silas held up Eliza's previous one, "I realized I had it on the train a while back… Did Snape give you that?"
"No, I got it from Filch," she quipped back, eyes never leaving the page, "Of course I got it from Snape. I needed one while you were gone and he gave it to me."
"But I have yours," Silas pushed the old book in her direction, "Give that one back."
"No," her sharp tone was surprising, "I like this one… good binding."
"Good binding?" Silas mocked, "Well excuse me then, I'll just go hand this back to Snape. Then he can take that one from you."
There was no room for argument as Silas rose and stalked across the Potions classroom, standing before Snape with a smarmy smile. She held out the book, "It's Elizabeth's. She won't give me the replacement you gave her, so I thought I'd give you this one back."
Snape's eyes bore into Silas' skull, flickering to the book for a split second and snatching it from her manicured hand.
"Return to your seat."
Silas deflated, looking back at the Eliza's back, "But she—"
Snape rose and loomed over her ever so shrinking form, "Sit. Down."
Eliza looked up as Silas came to a screeching hall in her seat, her mood having turned sour. "What did he say?"
"Piss off."
She held back a rightful snicker and flipped the back in her book, precariously gazing at the smattering of words littering the top of the page. The cursive always lingered on being messy—almost illegible at times—but this one she could make out with a squint.
Sectumsempra: For enemies
Time had turned to an indescribable mush; slowing down and dragging on the heels of one Elizabeth Jones, the schools year seemingly going at full speed and slower than melting ice all at once. Could this feeling of walking through tar be pointed to the fact that her eyes hadn't been graced by the presence of one Professor Remus Lupin—
"You're thinking about him again, I can see it in your eyes." Jean slapped the shoulder of her friend, "Nope, we promised there was going to be more thinking about that shit headed mongrel from here on out."
The two girls were lounging against the top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing down at the School Grounds below, watching the passing students. Normally, they'd have chosen the sands near the Black Lake, or even just the Dormitory's to spend their free period of the day, but the relentless questions from Daisy had forced the girls to hide far up in the towers of Hogwarts.
"I'm not thinking about him—swear," the frizzy brunette glowered, "I saw Cornelius Fudge earlier, I think they're here about Buckbeak."
"Oh, god," Jean deflated, shaking her head, "I thought Dumbledore would've tried to do something about it, maybe petitioned to just have Buckbeak set free, or something."
"Not with Lucius Malfoy pulling the strings," she spat, "That man is vile, worse than his wretched son."
Jean nodded in agreement, perching her arm on the tower railing and staring out into the abyss of the Black Lake, turning to glance at her friend, "We both know the Malfoy's run the Ministry, and yet you want to work for them in a years time. They'll run you into the ground, tear you apart if you try to step out of their pretty little guidelines."
"What would you have me do instead?"
"Anything!" Jean exclaimed, turning to face her friend, "Come with me and we can study dragons together, or go with Daisy and have her mum teach you spells, hell, stay with Mara and have a Muggle job."
"Why do you care so much about me trying to work for the Ministry?"
"Because they're going to let my dad go," Jean spat, glassy eyes refusing to meet her friends eyes, "He's been there since I was a child and now Lucius Malfoy is saying they have too many Aurors—just one too many."
"I—I'm sorry, Jean." She rubbed her friends back and compromised, "Fine, I wont apply for the Ministry, but I'll have to do something that isn't following after Mara."
"That's all I'm asking for."
The two friends watched the sun rain down on the shimmering waters, letting the silence encompass them.
"Can we go see Hagrid?" Eliza offered, "If they really are here for Buckbeak, then he'll need some comfort before it happens."
"Sure, I think Astronomy's happening soon and the 1st years like to raid here anyway." They cautiously walked down the winding staircase and skidded by the oncoming students, bumping shoulders with a few as they made it back to the Hogwarts Corridors.
They walked in step to the nearest staircase, skirting down the ever-changing staircase and changing course at nearly every turn. The arch that led to the hill down the Hagrid's house was near, but Eliza's footsteps faltered outside of the door she hadn't been back to in a fairly long while.
Jean skidded to a halt and backtracked with a head shake, "No, nope, get away from there, nope, we're going this way and no stops in-between," she grabbed and pulled her friend away, "C'mon."
Eliza allowed herself to be pulled away from the door, barely listening as Jean proclaimed, "Besides, he's no good for you anyway."
We'll die without her
Remus nearly crushed his wand, wishing Moony was just as silent as he normally was the rest of the wretched month. But with the Full Moon just hours away—the itch under his skin became nearly unbearable, and the urge to consume something raw and bloody was horribly painful.
It was a curse that Wolfsbane required hours of preparation that even someone as skilled as Severus could not bypass, so the pain would have to be endured.
If she were here, she'd stop the pain
"We don't know that," Remus muttered to himself, glad that no one was in his quarters to hear him speaking to himself. "She can't know, not like this, not after what we've done."
Then when?
Short nails dug into his amber roots, tugging and wishing the wolf inside would quiet down and let him live in peace. Anger burned at his core, and his hands started to shake with uncontained anger. His arm lashed out, all of his books and quills scurrying across the dark floor, not even pausing as he overturned the desk.
The once smooth walls now donned claw marks that dug deep into the stonewalls; curtains were torn to shreds and spots of blood marking the ground. He lie slumped against the wall, hair mussed and out of breathe, tears lingering in the corner of his eyes.
By Merlin, he craved Elizabeth; everything from her summer smooth scent to the thick curls of her hair, wishing she were here to see the monster he truly was; the beast that Werewolves were painted as. Then there would be no guilt in his heart when she turned this sad husk of a man away, finding love in the arms of someone who wasn't a monster.
Give her a chance
And what, give the chance that the reality of the lies he'd spat—I'm not the man you think I am, and I could never love you—would then again be thrown at him?
He'd rather die.
We will, without her
Remus allowed his head to slump back against the stonewall, defeat flooding his veins as one hand lifted and skimmed his chapped lips.
The feel of her soft lips against his had been like no other—the smoothness of her skin and the wetness of her flesh had nearly brought forth Moony, the wolf in him wanting to taste even more of her—there was no doubt her plump smooth thighs would feel like heaven beneath his pointed claws, that the smell of her inevitable wetness would release something carnal in him—
"She's just a girl, Moony."
But she's ours
A breeze from the open window nudged the brown parchment poking against his bare upturned foot, his arm stretching to pull it close. A pitiful smile crossed his face as he opened the Marauders Map and did the same thing he did every day.
Her name was floating next to her friend Jeanine and Hagrid, no doubt comforting the giant in his time of need.
She could be comforting us.
"You're not helping, you know." Remus quipped back at the voice in his head.
The wretched name of Peter Pettigrew hovered near Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, evoking a snarl from the werewolf, but tampered down the simmering rage. The time would come for revenge to be had, but he had to be patient—
A knock at the door had him rising with ease, not even bothering to fix his no doubt muddled appearance before striding to greet whoever had to come to see him.
Severus Snape's snarl greeted him; "Lupin. You're looking… interesting."
He ran a hand through his amber cut, "Can I help you, Severus?"
Severus pursed his lips with a glare, "I seem to have fallen behind on brewing your Wolfsbane. It will be ready before the moon rises, so please, be patient."
There was no farewell as the Potions master left in a flurry of his cape, the echo of Remus slamming the door echoing in the hallway.
Hagrid's wails rang through the small hut as Eliza tried to pat his massive back in comfort, Jean nearby with a drooling Fang in her lap. He'd already been sobbing when they'd arrived, and now were doing their best to comfort him.
"I wish there was something we could do, Hagrid, really." Eliza's words of comfort didn't do much to calm the half giants sobs, and she looked to Jean for any ounce of help. All three turned as the door opened and Hermione Granger trailed in with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Hagrid started to dry his tears as the three 3rd years found any place to sit, and Eliza smiled as Ron perched next to her.
"We'll stay here with you, Hagrid. And best believe I'll be giving Dumbledore a talk the next time I see him." Jean exclaimed with a stony face.
"You'll do no such thing," He wagged his finger at the students, "I don't need the lot of you seeing anything like this. You can have a few more moments but then you need to get gone. But first—"
Hagrid made his way to the table in the middle of the hut and opened a small tin can, picking out some squiring little creature.
"Scabbers!"
Jean and Eliza looked at each other over Ron's shoulder and shrugged, watching as he cuddled a squirming rat. Eliza moved away, not having a fondness for rodents. Hermione and Ron squabbled back and forth about something that neither 6th year really cared for, getting ready to take their leave. A jar exploding elicited a squeak from Eliza, shooting up to take in the dust now covering the remaining shards. A small curved rock lie in the dust, and she picked it up with confusion. Who'd thrown a rock?
"—Ow!" something small hit the back of her head and she rounded on the room, seeing all of them looking sheepish and innocent, the open window showing right into the Forbidden Forest, something out there having thrown a rock at her head.
"Hagrid." Hermione uttered, the room turning to look through opposite window to see Fudge, Dumbledore and the Executioner.
"All right, out the back, now. Don't be seen." Hagrid ushered the 3 3rd years and 2 6th years out the back door, each of them hunkering down and slinking across the pumpkin hoard, hiding behind a few obtuse pumpkins lining the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
The three younger students were watching the two men speak with Hagrid, but Eliza and Jean glared at the Executioner, sneering as he sharpened his axe in front of a resting Buckbeak.
"You think we can take him?" Jean whispered, snickering when Eliza made a so-so motion. A sharp crack echoed behind them, and Eliza nearly pulled her wand, holding the others back as she precariously stepped forward, eyes searching for whoever had thrown the rock at the back of her head. She wouldn't put it past Malfoy.
A light tickling itched her nose, and a delicate strand of brown hair rested before her eyes, the base being caught in the rough of a tree branch.
"Psst!" Jean loudly whispered, "We gotta go, c'mon."
Eliza wanted to go forward, but turned back and followed the other students up the Hill and away from Hagrid's hut, huffing in deep breathes as the three men stood before the Hippogriff. The third years turned away from the act of carnage, and Eliza flinched into her friends shoulder as the blade came down hard on Buckbeak's neck, ending the Hippogriff's life.
It broke the 6th years heart, to watch such a beautiful creature die for no actual reason other than the pride of Draco and Lucius Malfoy, and a brutal anger flooded her veins, the urge to smack Cornelius Fudge flooding coursing her mind. A Malfoy had corrupted the Minister; Jean was right, and she'd never work for the wretched Minister as long as he lived.
Ron's shriek for his rat had the two sixth years turning, watching the red head bolt in pursuit of the rodent that was better off in a cats belly.
"I think that's our cue to leave," Jean commented, starting to tug Eliza past a grass bound Ron Weasley and beyond the Whomping Willow, "Try and stay out of trouble, you hear?"
Her words were thrown behind her back and Eliza made to catch up to her friend, turning one last time to wave at Hermione Granger—there was something sincere about the little know-it-all—but what stood just behind Hermione and Harry was ground for the yelp that escaped her throat.
"Harry! Hermione! Run!" Ron screamed, "It's the Grim!"
The Grim?
Eliza voiced her confusion, "the hell is the Grim?" but the look on Jean's face concerned her a whole lot, and the other girl murmured, "the omen of death."
The black wolf—or, 'the Grim'—barked and jumped over the two 3rd years, bolting for Ron Weasley and biting into the meat of his ankle, hurriedly dragging him under the Whomping Willow and out of sight, his cries echoing in the air.
"What the hell was that? What the fuck did we just see?" Eliza was beyond confused—befuddled even—, and finally found the sense to move her legs and stop Hermione and Harry from entering the Whomping Willow.
"We don't know what's down there," Jean reasoned, stepping behind her friend in agreement, "It could be Sirius Black for all we know."
"I hope it is, then I can kill him." The venom in Harry's words was a shock to Eliza's core, "No one will be killing anyone, especially you."
"He's the reason my parents are dead. I have the only right." The timing of the shadows on the ground and the widening of Harry's eyes were enough to have them all dropping to the ground as the Whomping Willow grew agitated as this many people disturbed its peaceful slumber.
Eliza and Jean watched as the two 3rd years stupidly stood up and tried to spell the tree, of course being swept up in its many branches and thrown about. Eliza looked towards the hole at the base, yelling over Hermione's screams, "I'm going to get Ron, you help these two."
Jean gripped her before she could bolt, "Are you sure? I can go with you, we can do it together."
"I'll be alright," she looked into her friend's worried eyes, "Try and get help, yeah?"
There was no time to respond as Eliza sprinted to the base of the Whomping Willow, sliding down into the mysteries below.