For my rage far surpasses my guilt.

Late Summer '96

The Fields

–

My life, up to my mistake in wandering outside of the wildewood, was simple. Survive. Oh, there was joy, and learning in measure, but mostly those things taught me skills I'd need to wake with the next day's dawning. The Mother had a keen mind, if not one for teaching, and my own intellect was honed with riddles and stories, legends and tales to tempt and trick me into rounds of discussion and argument.

It was vastly different, with the packs that kept her ruins, and called them home as well. The best and worst of beast and man, they were at their lowest perfect monster, and at their height, enlightened sages. I could claim neither in my limited years. I understood myself, and my Mother – though not wholly, who could? – but little else. I was apart, outside the packs and it wasn't a secret. Still, I knew my way, so I wouldn't misstep and get my throat torn out in error, or be forced upon to mate. I learned lessons from the Mother, from those travelers who were foolish and wandered too far, and from elder wolves who saw in me something worth cultivating.

None of those lessons prepared me for the high magics that I had seen in the Ministry or from Daphne, briefly. I knew nothing of the complex dance of social bearing and position that seemed to rule these people. There was no skill in my arsenal that would make me a value to a society like the one I was exposed to. I could hunt, I could kill, I could riddle the moon from the sky, but none of it helped me here.

Above and beyond all other things I lacked, however, I was without any clue how to behave around a family. Particularly one that was apparently mine.

This I tried to explain, the first night I was housed in the Greengrass clan's massive holding, to my recently discovered sister. "I am unsure what I've done, or what to do now," I admitted, sitting with some open curiosity focused at the rather lavish accoutrements the room contained. My room. What an odd notion...

Sitting at a small table strewn with writing implements, Daphne considered my words while worrying at a large quill with her hands. "There's little that you're required to do. Hogwarts, of course, but I'll speak to you about that tomorrow. As for what you did, I think... are you familiar with expectations?" I nodded to the question, though it was vague. "Consider this then.

"My parents just realized the daughter they lost so long ago, could be alive. My mother in particular had so many preconceptions... they didn't listen to the Ministry, of course. And I mentioned how losing Astoria broke her," Shaking her head slowly, Daphne put the quill down with a small, final sound. It amused me, and at once made me respect this young woman each time she continued to speak of Astoria as if we were not the same person. It told me she understood, at least in part, that I was not just this memory people had.

"As for not listening, I suppose I mean that they were wholly unprepared for you, that is, well, who you are now. My father's mind, as it should be for a man of his station and family, was fixed on how this could benefit the Greengrass name. Another daughter to marry off for the good of such. Somehow they glossed over the fact you've been on your own, or away from us, for so long."

"Those aren't of course the first things in their minds," she assured me, though I think she said it more for herself. "They're glad you're alive and well. It's just the way of things here, and you're a definite counter to those ideas I can see them having."

I took all this in, with narrowed eyes. "Let me understand," I mused coldly. "This clansman Greengrass thinks of me as a parcel to be traded off," Daphne made to interrupt, but I shot such a glare at her, that the words fled back down her throat. "Your mother, though, can likely only see me as a ghost – one that wears the face of her long-dead daughter – and will likely never see me." Though I could recognize and understand the woman's pain, that didn't mean I felt it somehow my responsibility.

I did not question Daphne's own thoughts. I was no coward, but she was the only rock in this raging river that my life had become. I had no desire to undo what little stability she represented.

If I truly was Astoria Greengrass at some point, that little girl who had barely managed to surface anything akin to a personality that these people could miss at such a young age, had died. I am Fíona of the Graywoods now, nothing more, nothing less. That I may have been born of this man and woman meant nothing to me. For that matter, they meant less than they likely thought, even beyond my rudeness. It was not they, after all, that fetched me from my languishing at the hands of the Ministry, but their true daughter, Daphne.

Hence, my less than warm reception to their welcome, when I arrived. This seemed to put the two quite off. "I am sorry if my manner will cause you some difficulty," my apology was quiet, as I stood.

Daphne quickly followed suit, "Will cause? Oh, right," she had the grace to look pained for a moment, perhaps thinking of all the stress and problem I'd be causing her family. My family, I reminded myself idly. "I'm surprised, and yet not, that they're handling it so badly. I dealt with it so long ago," she smiled suddenly. "Maybe that's why I don't mind you being Fíona, rather than Astoria. I grieved and came to grips with it long ago."

"For that small thing, I thank you. So many things are new and strange," I explained, offering her a smile in return. "To suddenly lose my name? I think I would go mad."

"I suppose... well. If you'd not mind, could I ask you a few things?"

Such curiosity was not unexpected, though I still felt myself becoming wary, as I had with the Ministry's interrogators. "I do not promise to answer all, but you may ask," was my reply, and I hoped little of that wariness was shown. Daphne I did truly like, insomuch as I had the opportunity.

On hearing me, she nodded distractedly and rose, pacing a few steps in thought. "What was it like? To grow up like you have?"

"A broad question," I replied, prodding and trying to rearrange the massive bed they expected me to sleep on into something I could relax on. Giving it up, I stripped a handful of the pillows and the thick top blanket, more of a slight mat of its own, and took the lot to a place near the great open windows and their own little space to sit upon beyond. There, I made a nest for myself where the clean air could find me, "Perhaps you could narrow the scope?"

Daphne nodded, but instead asked a different question, "You speak so well, considering. I mean, from what they said..."

"Many have said the same, and I have none but The Mother to thank," my answer made her pause, and I cursed for being so careless with my words. "Let me explain...

"The wildewoods as I know them are nothing like the border forests you see. Your Ministry thinks I haven't an inkling about magic. This is a falseness, but one I fostered," leaning back against a the wall, I close my eyes, letting the wind from outside bring me smells of the lands surrounding this place. No scent of trees, but greenery as far as I could expect, lands given to growing things, but tended by human hands. It wasn't unpleasant, just... oddly ordered. The difference between flowers picked, and a wild field in full bloom. "I cannot explain the why of them. They simply are. The deep woods are a magic unto themselves, something ancient, far more so than the simple appearance they offer suggests.

"The deep woods are a place rife with magic, built on it, sustained by it. The Mother, as I speak of her, lives in that place. It was she that taught me to speak as I do, though it was not an easy task." A wry smile bent my lips, as I recalled the lessons of my past, "She would take those traveling in the deeps into her house, and have them teach me such things, till they had exhausted themselves."

Something I had said, or some way of saying it seemed to upset her, "She didn't teach you?"

Unsure what to speak of, or keep secret, I simply shrugged. "She had no talent in teaching tongues, I gathered. Besides, it was pleasant to have others about, as we were very isolated, outside of packs that followed her."

Seizing, as I knew she would on that thread, my sister quickly asked, "Packs? So there were werewolves?"

The word confused me, as it tended to, but I had pieced together some time ago what those outside the wood meant by it. "Yes, at least I think so."

Daphne blinked at me a moment. "Think so? I would think werewolves around my house would be obvious."

I didn't correct her assumption that we lived in a place she'd recognize as a 'house', though I did wonder at her meaning. It was a failing between our differing upbringing, I reasoned, and continued, "She, The Mother, had the allegiance of a pack and shared her grounds with them, and kept them near. She felt I would find such a comfort, perhaps. It was a mutual thing, as I understand it."

"So it's true, then?" Her demeanor had changed so much I was immediately on guard, but it wasn't a threatening thing. Wariness and fear tinged the air about her, with an underlying thread of sorrow. "You're a werewolf."

"I am Moon-touched, yes," I replied, hesitantly. "Did your Ministry not say such things to you? They did seem so terribly interested," I pointed out, with no little venom.

Daphne regarded her hands, pale knuckles white in the fading light, "They said you were, but that they had no real proof. You didn't change with the full moon."

Oh, so that explains that, I mused. Perhaps I am lucky they had none of the Touched present. It would be so much easier to simply smell the air and say 'yes', then bank on so much visceral evidence. "All werewolves as you know them change so?"

Perking up, partially in surprise and partially in confusion, Daphne nodded, "Well, yes. That's just how they... but you didn't. I don't understand."

I rose, and paced, turning my back to the waning moon outside, lost in my thoughts. After some time, I fixed my sister with my gaze, "Can I trust you? I barely know you, truly. Can you show me that there remains between us bonds as siblings, that have the promise to grow stronger?"

It was cruel, perhaps. Unfair of me to use such words, when her naked hope shone so clear so often from those blue eyes that were my own sometimes. Some deep, desperate, demanding thing inside me wanted this though, wanted the bond I spoke of, and to have one to share it with. I wanted a sister, some connection to a family, and what Daphne had offered me so far was to my taste, much more so than the faint remnants of such her parents resembled. So, I offered a barbed branch, in hopes my cruelty would go unnoticed.

Daphne regarded me shrewdly a moment, and I was suddenly made aware that perhaps we were sisters more true than I had previously understood. There was a canniness about her, that she kept sheathed like a blade. "Does your secret threaten us? My family, our family?" She asked finally, the edge still pleasantly glinting in her gaze.

Perhaps it was that light that finally removed all hesitation from me, toward my sister. "It could," I answered truly. "I am not as others, you see. The secrets The Mother showed me let me be at once more, but less than those others who are Touched."

Considering this with her head tilted in much the way I was prone to, Daphne paused. "It wouldn't hurt us, directly, you mean. It would be others looking to take that secret that could. If someone were to break your trust, I mean."

I nodded briefly. "Yes, but to one such as yourself? It would be useless – unless of course you find yourself Touched as I am."

To my surprise, there was a calculating sort of consideration at those words, that ran through my counterpart. After a moment's thought, she returned my nod, "You can trust me. And maybe we can make some use of this, if the times continue to be as they are."

There was no worry in me that my sister could unravel The Mother's magics, this far from the deep woods. There were things I would never tell her, things I don't think she could understand without being thrown into the world I knew. It wasn't distrust, so much as...

Do I think I could understand, without years and years within it, this world? Their Ministry, the massive houses of wood and stone, the casual magics? No. It was the same. Daphne would never understand the nature of what I was, at heart, because we were so different. Perhaps that is why I wanted to remain here, at least for a time, if I were truly honest with myself. There was an allure, subtle and curious, about a totally new world. Dangerous and full of unknown perils, it stirred the darkness inside me, she of the quick feet and lethal fangs.

Rather than explain, I backed away a few steps, and without the binding silver that the Ministry had so carelessly thrown about me, let the Change come.

Long ago I remember there being pain, a wrenching and tearing that only the magic that coursed through the Change itself could remedy. It unmade me, then bent me into another shape at its will. Some still had that disconnection from their inner beast. Their hidden heart.

Long ago, closer than the memory of pain, I embraced that part of myself. I fed the hunter within me those things that were weak and soft, vulnerable and imperiled. In return the pain left me, and now there was only the rush that comes with sudden surprise, or a quick kill. Fíona, fair of hair and skin and eye, fell and shimmered and was replaced by that which fed on her till there was no difference between the two, other than a choice of fur or naked flesh, fang or fanciful word.

Daphne shot a quick look to the window, and saw the moon as I knew it was – waning, a week beyond full. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she moved to flee, causing me a moment's lurch in desire to chase, till she reached the doors and secured them with a loud click of lock, and a wave of her mage's wand. Seeing her motion for what it was, a gesture to secure my secret, I sat and waited, content to let the night's new sharpness entertain me.

A few moments passed, and the shifting change in scents from my sister amused me. As I am now, the clarity of our shared blood is striking. We are so similar in that, but at the same time, the woods left deep marks upon me much the same as this place has her. She initially stank of fear and anxiety, but now, curiosity and wonder seemed to rule her. I waited for her questions, knowing they would soon follow.

She approached slowly, as if I were a wild thing, and I snorted a laugh, as I could. This startled her, and I turned my head, shaking it slowly. "You're... still there?" A nod, a flick of an ear. "Oh Merlin, that was a surprise. You could have warned me," she scolded, to which I snorted again. "Though, I suppose this cut down on the explanation quite a lot.

"We learned a bit about werewolves our third year at Hogwarts," she continued, pausing a few paces away. Rather than let this draw out, I stood and padded my way toward her, stopping when I could reach out and touch her. It pleased me greatly that she didn't flee, flinch, or let her fear rise again. "The texts said you would be overcome by your inner wolf when you changed – but then, it also said you'd only be able to change on a full moon. So much for the book, I suppose."

Daphne knelt down and let her hands come forward, stroking the light fur about my ears and head. "You kept your hair color. I doubt anyone has seen a golden wolf in ages. Of course, you're big for a wolf," she mused, and I chuckled in my odd way. Our eyes met and she smirked, "Yeah, same eyes still as well. So this is your surprise?"

I debated leaving it there, but decided that as long as I was baring myself to her, I should do so by no half steps. Perhaps it would help me along, if she knew. A secret tended to ease the way to others, as Mother often said. There were many things about this world I knew nothing of, and if she trusted me, it could only help me learn them.

And, above and beyond what I gained in a wolfen form, it would prove I was anything but helpless, even without the strange magics so many tossed about so casually.

Padding around her quietly, I nudged Daphne back till her thighs pressed against the chair she'd sat in before. "Hey – alright, I get it. What are you going on about?"

Quickly, before she could stand to follow, I darted to the center of the room, and drew heavily on the wolf's instinct, and my own memories. Flashes of the few times I've had to kill, to defend, to seek vengeance sped across my mind's eye. I could taste the blood, thick and hot, on my tongue, as it pooled around my teeth. Feel the sudden give and shatter of bones breaking in my jaws, the soft tear and muted rip of flesh rending from great claws.

Fíona the wolf was not my surprise. No, neither was the Change, bent to my will. My secret, the gift of the Gray Mother, was the true Beast, the one fueled by my rage, and leashed by will. Fíona the wolf and the young woman melted away, leaving only that burning core of white-hot fury, razor-honed instinct, and brutal power behind.

Daphne looked on the edge of panic, till I hunched down and settled on the room's floor, my height much muted by such an action. Her eyes were still wide, shining in the dim light, but she spent the effort to calm herself. I was glad – her fear smelled sweet. "Dear... Morgana, what are you?"

"This," I rumbled, the voice dark and full of gravel and teeth, "is the secret I would keep."

"I would say so..." she muttered, rising again. "What on earth happened to you, in there?"

I considered the question, and shrugged massive, gold-furred shoulders, "I had to survive. I was alone, without kin or clan. A girl-child in such a place is little more than sport, fleeting, but sport none the less. Or food, for the wild things." Though deep, I kept my voice low, knowing it would carry far in such a place. Standing fully, I came close to brushing the rooms ceiling with the tips of my ears, and smiled a terrible smile at my sister, standing just over half my height below. "Once I learned to truly harness that which I was, I feared little the wildewood had to offer."

Daphne moved back to her chair, and sat heavily. "I... wow. I'd imagine so." Through her shock, I could see her mind, one I thought likely much keener than my own. Oh, I was cunning, and bright in my own way, but my mind spun with the motions of the forests. My sister's was wrought in another forge. "Can others in the wild wood do this?"

"Wildewood," I corrected, but didn't linger on such a thing, "And no, not that I know of. Perhaps some were able, but the Gray Mother worked some of her own magics into me. This power of mine comes at a steep cost."

That said, I released the kernel of my fury, and felt the Change leave me, the energy that once beat fierce and heavy through my veins weak and small now. I hated how weak I felt, after such a Change, but knew that to stay there indefinitely was impossible. Without need, it was even more taxing. Spent, I slouched to the small nest I'd made for myself, and curled up there, eyes heavy.

To my surprise, Daphne came and sat by my side, running slow fingers through my fine hair. It was a familiar thing, one the Mother would often do, either on a whim, or because I had earned her favor in some way... and it soothed me greatly. "When you wake, we'll talk more of less exciting things. Maybe, I don't know if you'd find Hogwarts exciting. I want to know what cost you paid for... that. I can't imagine the kind of life you lived, to need such a thing," she murmured, as I lay and let my weariness from the last month and a week wash over me. Regardless, I could hear the smile in her voice, "you're safe here, though. You won't need to be that here."

I didn't let the smile, slow and happy, fall from my face, when I heard the lie in her voice. This place may not be home, but I was quickly finding at least a part of it, the one Daphne held inside her, to be very comfortable.

–

Summer '96

An aside – Hogwarts and Harry's Summer

–

"Headmaster, I am beginning to wonder if your fondness for those creatures borders on the unnatural. First Lupin, and now this... urchin?"

Dumbledore sighed, reaching up to rub at his temple tiredly. He had meant to go on an errand, one he hoped would provide vital information on learning precisely how Voldemort had cheated death, but this nonsense from the Ministry had taken up his entire day. First Fudge's desperate pleas for he and Harry to help ease the public outcry about his stubborn ignorance, and now this. "I would remind you, that the Greengrass family would take issue with your words, so please keep such remarks to yourself. My hands are tied, Severus. The girl is in the register – there is no law against it, and the governors have been lobbied by the parents and any allied families. Above that, the Ministry is in a moratorium with the fiasco surrounding Fudge." Leaning back, Dumbledore breathed a tired sigh, "He can make no step that doesn't look like a mistake, now. So he chooses to do nothing."

The potion's professor's expression changed not one bit, as he absorbed the headmaster's words and admonishment. "Regardless, she has no education. I doubt she even speaks the Queen's English." Scoffing, Snape shook his head, lank hair falling down before his face for a moment. "The girl is little more than a beast. She has no place in a school."

"Your opinion, Severus, is noted," Albus stated calmly, his eyes lacking the cheery glimmer they usually held. "The matter is closed. Now, you had relevant concerns, for the coming year?"

Wincing as if physically struck, the sallow-skinned man dropped the topic, and moved on. "Yes. I feel it would be waste of time to instruct Potter further in the mind arts. He is useless at such things, and my time is too important to spend on pointless trivialities."

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Albus raised a hand, summoning Fawkes to him. There was a moment of pause as the two looked into one another's eyes, before the headmaster nodded slowly. "Perhaps. I'll take your words under advisement – but reserve final judgment till I have spoken with young Mr. Potter."

"You put too much stock in-"

"That will be all, Severus," Albus interrupted calmly, leaving his spy and professor's mouth working silently for a moment, till the man sketched a slight bow and spun in place, causing the usual flare of robes the man affected. When the stout oaken door to his office shut with a bang, the old man loosed a breath, letting his expression of calm falter. "So many webs... how can I keep them intact, old friend?"

Fawkes tilted his head slightly, then dipped and trilled.

"Work not through webs, but with strong ties like rope? Perhaps." Another sigh passed the old wizard's lips, "Perhaps I am too old and set in my ways to change my methods so much, as well. Time will tell, if my good intentions shall truly pave the way to my just reward," he mused, somewhat morbidly. His familiar chirruped in disapproval, before spreading his wings to return to his stand.

–

It would have been hard not to hear about the 'Wolf-girl of Borthwood', regardless of how isolated one was. That proved immanently truthful, as even Harry Potter was aware of the girl and her odd appearance out in the less populated areas of the Isle of Wight. Or rather, reappearance, as The Prophet claimed she was the lost second daughter of the Greengrass family.

Of course, Harry had his own issues to deal with. He was more than a little angry at Dumbledore for his duplicity when it came to Sirius' will, something he was informed of by his now-suddenly cousin Nymphadora Tonks. Despite the Estate being little more than Grimmauld place by the time the reading came to occur, Harry felt the sting of the headmaster's lie acutely. He promised not to do this anymore... yet there they were again.

In return, he was less than gracious in refusing to turn Grimmauld over to the Order. Rather than assist the headmaster in his errand, Harry begged off, citing a sour stomach.

The trip to the Burrow was canceled – and on Tonks' next watch, they moved to Grimmauld, bidding the Dursleys a scathing farewell. Oh, Harry had no problem with the Weasleys, but he was excited about having a cousin, and besides, that... he knew that Sirius didn't leave him the old home to remind him of ghosts and unpleasantness. He did it so Harry would have something to identify with, for his new family, small as it was.

And just maybe, to prank the wizarding world by turning the Black name on its ear.

He and Tonks began channeling the spirit of Sirius in earnest shortly after, when they decided to renovate the old home, but ran into resistance with the Order. Operation Grim Old War was commenced, and the two made staying there nearly intolerable to anyone not on the 'in' list. That was limited to anyone named Weasley sans the parents, Hermione, anyone in the DA, and Dobby. Some tried to call him on his actions, but a none-too gentle reminder that this was after all his home, and they his guests, curbed any such talk.

Though it pained him, the knowledge that Tonks and Lupin's tentative romance had hit a hard stop after the will reading left a cool place in Harry's opinion of the man. Doubly so after he slinked off without a fight, once his cousin dressed him down for it, not even trying to regain her favor.

For a werewolf, the man had a depressing lack of spine.

Even through all that, and though it seemed like a huge rebellion, it was little more than a few spats here and there, and Harry exerting his own opinions for a change, once he had some. After it all, he caught up on the latest news – and found it all revolving either around Fudge's incompetence, fear and paranoia over Voldemort, or this 'Wolf-girl', whoever she was. He was happy to think that Fudge wouldn't be long for office, but that was just a single ray of light in a storm, really.

Never having been a big fan of The Prophet, Harry decided not to invest in back issues just to catch up, finding himself with free time and access to the news, that summer. Besides, if the scuttlebutt was its usual self, he'd learn everything the paper had and more, between Diagon for school supplies, and the Express to Hogwarts. That in mind, Harry resolved not to waste time on trivial things, and focused on getting to know his cousin and her family who now happened to be his own.

The 'Wolf-girl' could wait.

–

Late Summer '96

The Fields

–

Nature always sought a balance. This was one of the first lessons that I learned, and it served me well for years. I knew that if one of the wandering tribes cleared too much wood for their carts or boats, that the grasses would grow tall and then, different beasts would come to call them home. When rabbits and such grassland prey grew too populous, the predators, wolves and cats and hunting birds, would grow in number as well.

This ebb and flow of life and death, prey and predator, were things I learned by being a part of such cycles, not just as an idle observer. To a human, such abundant prey would herald a time of great hunts, and much stocking. I knew different.

When the prey was great, there were already growing numbers of predators. If man decimated those numbers, then what prey would exist for the other hunters? This was why wolves were feared and hated by so many, as they struck at the weak and infirm, when their prey was taken from them.

Hunting more than I needed was foolish, wasteful, and only brought disease and sepsis when the meat and carcass weren't eaten or disposed of. Carelessly discarded kills brought rats and vermin, which were possibly worse.

I knew the balance. I was part of it, and it was part of me.

Living in the Greengrass home, felt like walking backwards along my own knowledge, disregarding everything I knew for fact, took to heart as the way I should be, should live. "Daphne, sister... please. Understand," I tried to soothe, going so far as to hold my hands out like a supplicant. "I mean no insult... I just cannot do these things."

My sister paced about the room in clear agitation, shaking her head, "I don't understand. You're..." she trailed off, giving me a pointed look. "My father only once a year goes on these hunts. They are a family tradition, and he never, and I want to make sure you understand this, never, takes me, or mother along.

"He's trying very hard to earn your trust. To show you that you have a place here. Why are you refusing him?"

The implication she made, that my wolfen nature would by some influence cause me to simply enjoy hunting for its own sake kindled my ire, but she was as I was, in many ways. Ignorant, and mislead. Did she understand the deeper nature of what I was? Of course not – I had only shown her the surface, the frightening monster and the sleek hunter. Nothing inside of those guises, nothing that truly made them what they were, was apparent.

I reminded myself that she and her family were much the same. I didn't understand them, their nuances, their odd habits and desires and whimsy. It wasn't her, or by extension, her parent's fault that I kept my secrets close to heart.

They wanted their lost daughter back, and I wanted... I...

Daphne was growing impatient with my silence, but I had nothing to offer her, no excuse, or explanation. "This is one of those things, that will ever seem to sit between us," the low, sad cast to my voice calmed my counterpart, where reasoning words seemed to fail. "I will... try. Though, I do not see how he expects me to do this. I cannot use a wand that I do not have."

Again, Daphne sighed at me, and it began to gnaw at my heart how trying to please her, to fit in and keep this strange warmth between us kindled told on me. "You can use mine – and I'm to get you ready for the hunt by teaching you the spell to use. It's a simple arrow spell."

Resigned to my fate, I simply nodded. "As you say, sister." There are some battles you fight, and some you concede. Though I was never fond of backing down, for now it was my path.

–