So this is my contribution to the 13 Spooky OQ Days, for day 7: full moon. It's some kind of HP au; i hope you don't mind ;)
i... don't know if it will actually be scary; but i tried!
and a million thanks to Nina for helping me with this; it would be waaay much crappier without her help.
Luna
.
.
some wars can't be won
only survived
.
.
When she had married him, she knew it would get to something like this, one day.
A happy life with tranquil falls, orange leaves and hot chocolates in front of the fire just wasn't in the cards for her.
How could have she been so stupid, to hope she could have that?
The floor is cold underneath her. The air is so quiet she can hear her blood drip down. Splash. Splash. A slow trickle. She breathes, in, out, in, out, waiting. For what, she ignores. Death or salvation. The sky is pitch black, now, the shadow of light blue from this morning completely lost. She revisits that blue in her memory, plays with it, molds it into a blanket of stars and clouds until a smile pulls onto her lips.
Someone will find her. Dead or alive, she ignores. Still breathing, alive, but on the brink of death? A monster? Transformation tickles her limbs, those legs she almost doesn't feel anymore, those cuts that have been added out of impulses of deranged wickedness. Maybe they'll find her dead? Pale limbs on a bed of leaves, eyes too tired to close?
Will they find her?
Her enemy should be gone, by now. But maybe he's still fluctuating between life and death, too – maybe he still has people of his kind, lingering around, seeking vengeance. The ones who helped him.
A sudden shiver runs through her veins, like ice. Her family is not in danger, aren't they? A strangled sound exits her throat. Please, anyone, please, she begs in her mind. The sky is blue, black, not one star in sight. Pity, she thinks – her thoughts float like lost caravels in a sea of nonsense. Pity, I like stars. There is a bit of wind now. Caresses her useless skin, sends whispers through the trees of the forest. A raven caws, determined to bring its monition to the world.
The moon shines above her. It's the last thing she sees before closing her eyes.
.°.
Her day had started well enough. She was at the Ministry for most of the morning. She has spent many, many hours hovering over their new case. David was restless – after all, his wife is pregnant and he doesn't like to leave her alone for too many hours, not after she's been on bed rest for some time because the baby was in danger. So she has told him to go home for tea, at five, and then she had been alone, staring at the wooden board with pinned articles and moving pictures.
Regina slumps in her chair, her hands massaging her temples. A deep sigh, and she closes her eyes. Damn it. This case has proven itself to be more difficult than she thought, and she is an Auror with a decennial experience. God knows what would have happened if they'd given it to her intern. They do that, sometimes – that's a particular detail she doesn't like of the British system. The American one was simpler – as they sometimes cooperate with the police, interns are most likely infiltrated there rather than in the government's administrative offices.
Well, she married and came here for love, she thinks. Her eyes skim to the framed photograph on her desk. Her husband and their son, their smiles wide as she leans in to kiss Henry's cheek. They look so happy, in that moment.
Maybe she should just go home to them. She should… maybe… one hour, she decides. One hour and she will, she will use the Floo powder to land on the carpet of her home and she'll brush the ashes off her cloak, and kiss Robin hello and hug her son. She will.
There's the post from the morning to read, she notices, and grabs the first letter, distracted. But when she opens it, she screams.
.°.
"Where's Mommy?" Henry pipes up, his eyes still wide and awake despite Robin's best efforts to make him sleep.
"I'm sure she'll be here soon," he answers. A swift look to his pocket watch tells him it's almost nine, and she should be here already. Many hours ago. "Don't worry, bud. She's fine, but you know what Mommy does for work, right?"
"She fights bad guys!" Henry exclaims, his toothy smile melting just a little the tight knot in Robin's chest.
"Exactly," he answers, ruffling his hair. "I can read you a story, but then it's nap time, okay?" His son nods, eyeing the light blue book on his nightstand. "Which one?"
"Babbitty Rabbitty, please," he asks so politely.
"Of course, why am I even asking," Robin muses. It's always that one, at least until Henry tires of it and they can move on to The Tale of the Three Brothers. He opens the book – it's Regina's copy, her tiny scribbles still visible under the title. He checks on Henry, seeing if he's comfortable enough, and starts. A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic…
Henry gives in to sleep as he's ending the story, his quiet breaths so calming, and Robin watches him for a moment before getting up.
In the living room, he tries not to, but he does. He does check the clock – the one which tells you where the family members are. Home, it says, for Henry and him. The hands with their names are one above the other, in a reassuring way. He expects Regina's to be pointing at work or travelling, but it doesn't. He watches with a frown – it says lost.
And while he's watching, it changes to mortal peril.
.°.
When she wakes, she's in a forest.
She recognizes this forest. She went here once for camping, because Robin was deeply in love with these woods and the river nearby; they held affectionate memories. The Forest of Dean, he called it. So she isn't that far from London, not really, she's near Bristol, but she still has to figure out how a simple letter managed to wipe her away from her office to… here.
She touches the pocket of her dress, and her wand is… not there. Maybe it has fallen, maybe it's somewhere around – without that, she can't disappear, or send a signal, or a Patronus. Panic starts to mount as she looks around for her wand – it feels like she's lost a limb, right now – and being without a wand is… unsettling, to say the least. Unnerving. She's a great witch, she knows it, and she knows she can take down anyone or anything… if only she had a wand.
"Come on," she says, crunched down, her eyes skimming the terrain covered in leaves and mud. "Where are you?"
"Looking for this?"
A voice asks, from behind her. Her head turns so suddenly it spins. And right now, she's looking at the very object of months of research, the essence of her latest nightmares. A werewolf. Fueled by hatred and revenge, he has destroyed lives and families. And he's holding her wand between his dirty, chubby hands.
He slides it silently into his cloak. She's still staring, kneeled on the ground, hands caked in mud.
"No more wands for wolfies. Bad, bad wolfies," he singsongs. "Our game is more fair if you don't have one, Regina." He takes a few steps towards her. Their eyes are at the same level. "Do you want to play a bit with me?" His hands clap happily, a toothy smile on his face, then he lightly touches her cheek, and she has to repress a shiver of disgust at his dirty fingers, but she feels… weirdly calm. "I haven't played in days…"
.°.
A month earlier
"Sons of a bitch!"
Regina's gaze snaps up at Emma's voice, as her colleague enters her office. "Always so gracious, Miss Swan," she comments coolly. "What happened?"
"That psycho wolf killed another Muggle. In plain sight, at midday!"
Regina sighs, reaches out for another sip of her coffee. "And?"
"And they assigned us the task, now," Emma breathes heavily, her anger pouring out as if she's a ticking bomb. "So it's not, like, a general duty of everyone here to be checking on his bullshit, but it's our responsibility to take him down!"
"It's not like it changes anything," Regina arches an eyebrow. "I've already been pouring my soul on this case for months."
"Yeah, but…" Emma slumps down on a chair and passes a hand through her hair, with a tired look. "He gives me the creeps," she admits. "I've taken down Death Eaters and Dementors and Inferi – and this… kid, he looks lovely, and yet he gives me the creeps every time I look at his picture on the wall, for heaven's sake."
Regina can't help it – she turns slightly and there it is, the adorable little child they're chasing. He looks positively handsome, his cute smile lightens up the picture. His blonde hair is neatly cut – it's a photograph from before of his transformation, and… who'd have thought a child would be more deadly than lots of adult wolves?
He doesn't control it, David has said once. Adults know when to hide, when to take potions or chain themselves and wait for the moon to change. He… is dangerous, he's been trained by the Greybacks to cause the most damage he can, and he's not possible to tame. Now he's alone, and scared, and we have to stop him. Forever.
.°.
"Of course I can stay with Henry," Mary Margaret tells him, her hand on her belly. She looks worried, a frown on her face, but it is nothing compared to the inner turmoil Robin is feeling right now. "You go, and… bring her home."
David looks at Robin, defeated. He has tried not to tell him what Regina was doing out there – confidentiality obligation, he has said. But then, when Robin had shown him the clock, he'd changed his mind. "I knew it was dangerous," he tells him, "but I thought we were going to wait until we had all the intel."
"Yes, of course she would do that," Robin mutters. "She's always been too impulsive, and now she could be –"
"Let's go," David interrupts before he can say something irreparable. He gives one last kiss to Mary Margaret and follows him outside, to the brooms hut. "Robin, thinking it through… I don't know if you should come," he exclaims. "I can just ask for back up…"
"We don't have time for back up," Robin spits. "My wife is in mortal danger, I don't know if you noticed." He pulls his wand out to open the hut. "And I may be on Magical Creatures now, but don't forget I was an Auror as well, back in the day."
"How could I," David sighs. "Okay then, let's go."
.°.
She is running through the forest, her heart thumping, wild. It's no use, she knows – he has the hearing of a wolf and its speed, he has her wand, and there's nowhere she can go without him finding her. The sun is down, now, the blue of twilight quickly replaced with the blue of night.
He can't turn yet, she thinks. Not yet. Not until the full moon is up, not until the night goes dark and the wolf comes out. Maybe she should let him win now. She's heard that a bite from an un-turned werewolf does less damage – she's heard of Teddy's uncle, Bill, who was bitten more than twenty years ago and still loves his steak rare, but that's it. And, the scars.
She should let him win now.
It appears her body has made its choice, because she has to stop – panting, her hands on her thighs, trying to gain some breath.
"Are you done running?" his voice pipes up from her side. "Is this a game you learned at Ilvermorny? Or Hogwarts? Can you teach me? It was funny!"
"Just end it, kid," she pleads. "Or give me my wand. If you really want to fight –"
"I don't wanna fight," he pouts. His hand slides into his cloak and takes her wand. She looks at it with longing, but knows she can't attempt to take it – he's swift, quick, he'd sense her movement before she's even started to think about it. "I want you to become like me so we can play together!"
Regina looks at him, horrified. What the hell did they tell this kid during his life? I want you to become like me. Like me. He's toying with her wand, a happy smile on his face, but isn't making any move to attack yet. And then she feels a weird little tug at her heartstrings, that looks suspiciously like tenderness. The maternal need to protect any children kicks in and she leans on, fully conscious of what she's doing, but unable to stop herself.
"Please, Aiden," she whispers, using his name for the first time. "Please don't do this. I know you're good, deep down," she continues. He's not listening – he's probably forgotten the touch of his mother since a long time. "If you give me the wand, and come with me, we can fix this. We can help you."
Still silent, he glances up at the sky. The moon is not out yet.
He's waiting to turn, she realizes.
She hasn't the time to blink, and she's flying backwards, her back slamming on the trunk of a tree. "I don't trust you, Regina," he answers, with a sad voice that squeezes her heart. "But you can wait there just a few more minutes, and then we'll play," he smiles. Black ropes of strong silk sprout out her wand, so she finds herself chained and struggling before she can protest.
"Aiden, please," she begs, tensing against the restraints, her voice full of fear. "Just let me go and I can fix this, I promise!"
He laughs. A ringing laugh that makes her shiver, because it sounds so… wrong, coming from the mouth of a child, and maybe it's not so smart to make empty promises, but… what does she have to lose?
Henry, a whispering voice says. Robin. Home. Your life.
She hushes the voice – she doesn't need to think of them right now, because she still wants to fight.
"Oh, Regina," he smiles sweetly, a glint of wickedness in his eyes. "It's so funny, how you spent months chasing me… and didn't realize you were the chased one. They helped me, you know? It will be so nice when you're a wolf like me! But now," he lowers his tone, she sees his little hand squeeze her wand, "now you killed them! You and your friends killed my family! So I need a new family," he tells her, as if it's the logical consequence. "And I want you to be my family!"
Regina stills, paralyzed. Her palms are sweating, as he gets closer, uncovers his teeth. They're… sharp. Then, when he's standing inches from her, he stops. They both look up, through the trees to the black sky, and the clouds slowly moving around, to the pool of luminescent light in the middle.
He turns his back to her, and lifts his head, bathing in the moonlight.
Then it begins.
.°.
"I'm calling backup," David tells him, as he draws his wand out. A wordless spell and three Patronuses bloom out, his trusted sheepdogs, who run away to warn his colleagues. "We can't beat that monster and save her, not on our own."
They found the envelope of a letter in her office – one addressed to Miss Mills, with a seal signed F.G.J., and immediately jumped on their brooms again, towards the forest. The letter inside was a Portkey, that much was clear, and thank heavens they could track the destination. Magic really has improved in time, David has commented, gaining a glare from Robin.
The forest of Dean.
However they just had the name of the place, but finding Regina inside of the forest… was another problem entirely.
"The werewolf can wait, I want to find my wife," Robin says, more interested in his wand, which is now pointing towards her. "I hope this spell works. It's rather new – one of Regina's experiments – and… if it doesn't, I don't know what else we can do." He usually doesn't… particularly love Regina's magical attempts at new spells – one of them sent her to St Mungo's a couple of years ago – but this one is a new, improved version of the Four-Point spell, and it looks like it works.
"We don't know if he's alone or there's more of his kind," David reasons, as if he's talking some sense into a child. "Maybe we should split."
Robin smiles, shakes his head, and starts walking towards the direction the wand is pointing at. "Come on, man," he tells him. "Don't tell me you're scared."
"Aren't you?" David looks at him as if he's mental. "The kid took your wife thanks to Young Greyback's tricks, he's a psychotic eight-year-old who's managed to put a trained Auror into mortal peril, and you're not scared, not even a little?"
After these words, Robin stops abruptly, and turns to face him. "I'm desperate, my friend," he confesses. "I cannot afford to be scared, right now."
"We will find her," David answers, his voice full of blind faith. "But… Robin, I haven't told you the whole story."
.°.
The wolf is… much bigger than she thought.
He stands on his legs, curved, uncovers his teeth in a growl. Regina watches, horrified, as the last inch of skin becomes fur. He throws his head back and lets out a long howl, a long painful screech straight from his throat. His cloak has fallen, and she sees the wood of her wand shine for a moment as the stick rolls out in the grass. If only she could take it…
But calling for a wand with the power of mind requires a particular skill she's only been able to master in… tranquil conditions. Certainly she won't succeed here, her mind screams, droplets of sweat mingle with cold shivers.
"Aiden…" she murmurs. He snaps his head towards her, his eyes narrowing in an ugly grimace. The cute boy from earlier is far gone. "Don't do this. You can choose to overcome your instincts," she talks to him, with the calm that comes from despair. "You can let me go and I will help you. You don't have to do this."
He growls. His head bows down – she'd think it's the recognition of wolves to their alpha, but that's not the case. He falls on his upper legs and snarls at her, drool pooling out of his mouth. She instinctively retreats against the trunk, but he paws closer, slowly, as if he knew she has nowhere to go.
A blow of his paw cuts the strings that hold her up, and his claws cut the skin of her arm in the process. She falls to her knees with a choked scream. Her wand is only inches away, she has to take it.
He jumps to her – it lasts one instant, his paw pressed to her chest, her back pressed against the ground. She stretches her arm and her hand to her side, hoping, wishing with all her heart to finally grasp her wand. Still too far – her fingers struggle to reach it, she tries to roll over but he's too heavy, too strong...
Regina fights against his weight, her nails digging into the skin under his fur. He uncovers his teeth, growls lowly. Her breaths fasten their pace in fear, her eyes widen, and all of a sudden he's onto her, giving the first bite at her shoulder.
The scream that pierces the air seems to come from far away, and she doesn't immediately register it's coming from her. She punches at the wolf's throat, and Aiden retreats with a wail, suddenly out of breath. Her muscles move in a last, desperate attempt as she pushes with the bitten flesh to reach the wand…
.°.
"The whole story?" Robin stops abruptly in the middle of the woods, the light from his wand dancing against the trees. "What the hell do you mean with the whole story?"
David passes a hand through his hair, as if he's embarrassed. "A detail," he rectifies. "The werewolf is… a child, as you obviously know. But Regina wasn't supposed to be assigned to this case."
Robin's eyes narrow, his hand closes into a fist, and he has to sudden urge to punch him. "What?"
"During our training they find our weaknesses," David explains, and he knows, of course he knows. "And… Regina's was something like… her caring nature. When the people we fight…" he stops to gulp, perhaps reviving old memories. "When they seem to be weak or call to our deepest emotions, that's… that's where she fails. Because she would die herself, before hurting a child."
.°.
When she wakes, her throat is burning.
She hears herself humming in discomfort, the fire in her cuts burning like a dying sun, her head throbs and she gulps, blinking slowly before she feels strong enough to open her eyes. The sky above her is light blue – or – wait, it can't be – is it a ceiling, instead? – and there is a fresh hand on her forehead.
"Shh, darling, you're alright," a voice whispers above her. A voice she knows too well. "Take it easy, okay?"
Her words are pained and scratchy. "Where – what happened?"
"You're at St Mungo's, my love," Robin answers. He sighs. His face looks tired, relieved, but his eyes have that glint of worry she has come to know in the years. "It's over."
"Tell me," she pleads. She's battling against sleep, because she'd like to let go and close her eyes, but she can't. She wants to know the story. "Henry, is he…?"
"At home, sleeping," he asserts. "It's barely past dawn. I will tell you all, don't worry," he says. "The little wolf is gone. He died," he tells her, almost emotionless, but she can't help to let out a shaky breath of relief, and to feel guilt constricting her heart. "David and I found you and…" he looks away for a moment, overcome by emotions. "God, Regina. I never want to feel like that again."
"I'm sorry," she murmurs. Because she is. She could have been harsher with Aiden, she could have knocked him down and took her wand and ended him herself. Instead she let her emotions flow and she let him lead the game, until it was too late.
Robin says nothing, because there is nothing to say. He leans in and presses a kiss on her forehead. She closes her eyes at the touch. She's afraid to ask the next question. "What happened to…?"
Her hand gestures vaguely at her shoulder. The skin there is still painful, but the pain has dulled to a rhythmic throb.
Her husband doesn't speak right away. Instead, he averts his eyes, and takes a breath. "You… were bitten," he says. "And the Healers said… it's a… light version of lycanthropy."
Regina stiffens, gulps, feeling the sting of tears at the corner of her eyes. "W-what does it mean?"
"That despite the wolf's young age and being entirely turned, you… you were bitten, but he didn't reach your blood," he recites. "You only become a werewolf if the bite infects your blood, so… you'll have some scars, and other side effects, but…"
Her tears are leaking now, and his hand immediately reaches her cheek, his thumb swiping them away. "It's okay, lovely," he soothes. "We'll get through it together," his hand finds hers, and squeezes.
"You're not… disgusted?" she asks in a small voice she doesn't recognize. The heartbeat before he answers feels like it's the longest of her life.
"No," he assures. "I just think you're the bravest woman I've ever met. You're the bravest person I've ever met, Regina."
"It certainly doesn't feel that way," she sniffs, but she can't help the smile tugging at her lips. "I feel so stupid."
"It wasn't your fault," he says, "I know it was a Portkey, and David told me all about the case. He didn't want to, though," he smiles. "But it wasn't your fault."
She shakes her head, her eyes fixated on their hands, but doesn't reply. "Can you kiss me?" Her eyes snap up to meet his. "Without side effects?"
"I think so," he tells her, with so much affection in his eyes that he makes her heart swirl and dance. Only when his lips meet hers, she starts to believe that maybe, he was right. Maybe with her family and with him she can overcome everything. No matter how many full moons she has to face.
