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Chapter Two

"Rest, for the moment, my dear," Albus rose to his feet, resting a gentle hand to my forehead. Almost instantly, my eyelids drooped, exhaustion settling over me. "You need to heal, to regain your strength. We shall talk more when you wake."Newt offered me a fleeting smile before he rose from my bedside. I was asleep before the pair of them left the room.

"Come on, now; yes, yes, that's it!" Newt cheered softly, his light green eyes flitting up to meet mine only briefly; a flush colored his long neck and he looked away quickly, his hands growing clammy on my upper arms. "Ah, y-yes, excellent work. You're doing wonderfully, Vivian."

"Newt," I replied, a slight smile on my face despite the exasperation coloring my tone, "I walked ten steps."

His shoulders lifted slightly, his head falling to one side as he stared at his feet. A boyish grin flitted across his face and he chanced a glance at my face once more as he noted, "But that's two more than yesterday."

It was true; I had been in this… Hogwarts for the past three days - though I had only been conscious for less than a day - taking as many potions as Albus and Newt were able to bring me. There were no other professors at the school, as it was the middle of summer, and they were steadily running out of their stock in the infirmary. Though both wizards were proficient at the craft of potions, neither wanted to spend too much time away from me in my delicate position as a newly-turned werewolf.

Everything about that thought was unbelievable and yet, utterly true. Well, I couldn't be entirely sure there were no other professors in the castle; I hadn't been able to get to the bathroom on my own, let alone explore the purportedly sprawling school and grounds.

But I had seen them both perform magic as if it were the most natural thing in the world; conjuring objects out of thin air, transforming items from one thing to another without batting an eyelash, summoning potions or blankets or parchment with a flick of their wands. The list went on and every single time it boggled my mind.

Newt would occasionally give his wand a bit more of a flourish, offering me a wink when he knew I was gawping at the sight. But how could I not? I had gone twenty-seven years without seeing anything quite so spectacular as tea pouring from the tip of a wand into a waiting, floating teacup.

It was spectacular.

I desperately wanted to see the rest of the castle; Newt claimed the staircases moved and that actual ghosts floated through the halls, walls, and people on occasion. There were house elves - small, pale creatures with massive eyes and floppy ears - that served the meals and did the cooking and cleaning.

Also, I wanted to leave the company of the portraits and their unwanted opinions. Now that they knew I was a… werewolf… they would make snide comments, ogling and sneering and generally making me feel like a piece of garbage.

"What are they thinking?"

"I always knew those two were off; oddballs, the both of them…"

"-after what he did-"

"It's disgusting, allowing that thing in the castle…"

Newt shot the nearest portrait - a haughty lord from the mid-seventeenth century who was incredibly vindictive when it came to werewolves - a pensive frown and chided, "That's not a very nice thing to say, Lord Benedict."

'Not a very nice thing' was a bit of an understatement, though from what I had gleaned of Newt's character in the past few days, it wasn't an unusual thing to hear from him. He didn't appear to have a mean bone in his body; hell, he could barely speak to me without stuttering, let alone properly rebuking a vicious portrait.

"I don't need any lip from you, Scamander," Benedict retorted, his thin nose wrinkling in disgust as he surveyed the young man, "cavorting with a half-breed; you sicken me."

"One more word from you and I'll tear you off that wall and burn you," I snapped, face flushing an unsightly shade of red as I felt Newt's gaze fall on me, "how 'bout that?"

Benedict grimaced and huffed, blustering on, but I returned my attention to the man currently keeping me upright. He eyed me with a sad smile, murmuring, "Please don't take his words to heart, Vivian. He- he doesn't understand. Being a werewolf doesn't make you a bad person, or a half-breed, or-or disgusting… You're not any of those things. From, that is, from what I know of you."

A wince flashed across my face and the young wizard guided me carefully to the window, helping me settle into a wooden chair with gentle hands. Huffing, I lifted a shaky hand and wiped the sweat from my clammy brow, "A wheelchair would be bloody useful."

"A- Vivian, that's brilliant!" he exclaimed excitedly, tearing his wand from his pocket and aiming it at my chair. He noticed my widening eyes and sent a crooked grin my way. "Trust me and just don't move."

With a flick of the wrist, I watched in amazement as a set of wheels form along the sides, feeling the back and seat plump up into plush, plum-colored cushions. My legs moved suddenly and I glanced down; he had conjured up a footrest to support my slippered feet.

"There," he grinned, fisting his hand on his hips, satisfied with his work, "that shall make matters a bit easier, I think."

"Now you and Professor Dumbledore don't have to worry about carrying me around all the time," I smiled, leaning my head against the pillowed back and sighing in contentment, "as long as I can get to the chair, I should be alright. Y'know, making it to the loo and all that."

"It was really no trouble," Newt replied immediately, ruffling his hair with a shaky hand, "you're light as a feather and, well, no, I-I suppose it is, ah, less uncomfortable for you if I didn't, er-"

He was beat red by now, wringing his hands and chewing on his lower lip. He moved from the window and began to pace, his words stringing together until they were unintelligible.

"Newt, I just want to be less of a burden to you," I took pity on him, interrupting him gently and eyeing the portraits with distaste, "you've done so much for me in the last few days… I don't think anyone else would have. I- they've been filling me in on werewolves and-"

Newt followed my gaze and frowned, "They don't know what they're talking about. They only know the myths and legends they've learned over the years, and that are all wrong. So very wrong."

"Do they only turn into werewolves on the full moon?" I queried, my heart leading to my throat at the thought of lumping myself into that group. I will turn into a werewolf on the full moon, won't I, Newt?

"Well, yes, that part is true, but-"

"And they can be killed by a silver bullet, yes?"

"I believe it has to do with an allergic reaction to silver, though I have yet to be able to prove that theory-"

"They- I'll crave human flesh, won't I?"

He rounded on me, his harried steps halting, his eye eyes gleaming with determination, "No."

Toying with a loose thread on the comforter draped across my legs, I fingered the bandage on my neck with my free hand. My throat grew raw and I noted thickly, "They did."

Newt knelt before me, gathering my hands in his and pressing them to his chest. His heart pounded beneath my fingers, though I could hear it hammering clear as day against his ribs. His lips drew to a thin line, his Adam's Apple bobbing, "Werewolves have been shunned by society for centuries. Cast out, tortured, killed. Families have disowned, even murdered, their children for contracting the disease, when if it was through no fault of their own. Those that you encountered were ones I have been trying to study, to learn from and make peace with. They… they don't trust humans and you…"

He trailed off, unwilling to accuse me of invoking the attack, but his silence was telling enough. It was my fault, mine and the others', though I was the only one left to suffer my new, unwelcome fate.

"The hatred they have is learned," he continued, his thumbs rubbing absently across my knuckles, his eyes tracing his movements distractedly, "the fear and anger that led them to attack you was bred into them. They were raised that way, in their pack. It's not in you."

Shuddering slightly, I forced the flashes of carnage and blood from my mind, of the tearing flesh and screams, replying softly, "But it is. I am afraid, and angry. What if I don't remember who I am when I… turn into one of them? What if I do to someone else what they did to me? What if I hurt you?"

He exhaled into a laugh and grinned charmingly up at me, "You won't. Of that I'm sure. I do have some idea of what I'm doing, you know. I'll help you. Every step of the way. It won't be too bad, I don't think."

"Says the man who isn't a werewolf," I teased lightly, squeezing his hands in mine and smiling bashfully, "thank you, Newt."

He dropped his gaze and cleared his throat, rising to his feet and pulling away from me, "W-well, now that you're m-mobile, perhaps you would like to s-see a bit more of the castle?"

Excitement flooded me and I nodded fervently. Though I hissed as jolts of sharp, searing pain shot from my still tender neck, I couldn't help but grin, eager to be free of this room and explore the magical school.

Newt positioned himself behind me, though he could easily flick his wand and allow the wheelchair to move on its own, and began to push, "I should be able to transfigure the staircases to allow us down. We must go to the Great Hall, and if you're feeling well enough, we could go outside; the grounds are quite lovely in the summer. We may catch sight of the squid in the Black Lake, or perhaps some merpeople…"

"Merpeople?" I echoed faintly, wondering just how many creatures were known to this world, creatures that I never could have imagined existed, "there are merpeople here? Are they dangerous, as well, or is that just me?"

Newt clicked his tongue, halting us outside of Dumbledore's office, at the top of the spiral staircase. It spun and in a moment, we moved through a door and into a long hallway. I couldn't have fathomed there would be more portraits than in the professor's quarters, but I was wrong. For as long as the sprawling hallway stretched, every inch of wall space had portraits that moved and sang and danced. There were animals, creatures, humans, skeletons… anything and everything, all watching us as we made our way to the Great Hall.

They whispered to each other, murmured as they eyed us, some curiously, some cautiously. Newt had told me that those within the portraits could visit others and talk to each other. Obviously Lord Benedict had been paying his fellow portraits more than a few visits.

But Newt was oblivious and I determined to be so, as well, querying curiously, "Where is the, er… Hufflepuff?... common room again?"

"Near the kitchens," he replied immediately, wheeling me through an archway and down another corridor, this one full of suits of arms that abruptly came to attention, startling me and sending Newt snickering. "Perhaps we'll stop there on our way back. I do miss visiting Dotty and Minnie; there are so many things I miss about this place."

"Why aren't you a professor here, then?" I inquired, warily watching the supposedly empty knights follow our every move, "it seems like you'd be a perfect fit."

He really would have. He was brilliant and clever, likeable in his awkwardness and sweet. So why hadn't he? Professor Dumbledore seemed incredibly fond of him; he would have given him a position on his staff without question.

"Well, I, er-"

"Slimy Salamander, back in the castle!" a wicked voice cackled, though despite my searching, belonged to someone unseen. Close, but unseen. "Keep the kiddies away! Keep the kiddies away! He's going to set loose another one of his nasty beasts!"

A pair of icy cold lips brushed my ear and I shrieked, nearly tipping the wheelchair sideways as a small, translucent man hovered by my side. Newt jerked me away from him, positioning himself between us and standing tall, brandishing his wand. His tone was loud but wavering as he ordered, "P-Peeves! Leave us be! Professor Dumbledore knows we're here and will be very angry if you-"

But this Peeves would not listen; he spun through the air, his curly hair wild as corkscrewed, shrieking, "Werewolf in the castle! The murderer has brought a werewolf to the castle! Run! Run! RUN!"

Newt continued to shout, though I no longer heard his words. Because Peeves' echoed through my mind.

Murderer.

Newt was a… murderer?

Blackcat711: thank you! I'm glad you think so! It's before the movie, though maybe only by a year or two. So he's already been expelled and let the school, but I feel like Dumbledore would still keep in touch with Newt and help him when he needs it.

Guest: thank you so much!! I really appreciate it!!

Lululillie: I'm really glad you're living this story so much! I hope you like this chapter! Not too much happening just yet but when she's up walking around again, and her first transformation, it's gonna be good!!