Chapter Eight

Rae Rogers waited until nightfall to unravel the tightly-rolled sheet of parchment Professor Davidoff had tucked into the sleeve of her robes as they spoke earlier that day.

It wasn't the first time her favourite professor had slipped her a note from someone dear to both of them, always with a friendly wink and a secretive smile that seemed to say, Yes. It's from her again. But she was surprised that he'd had the daring to do so in a hall so crowded with on-looking students. He was usually adamant that they could tell no one about the letters he passed her way every other week.

A smile spread across her cheeks as her eyes roamed greedily across the paper, soaking up her correspondent's familiar slanted words. How she'd longed for this all her life. She hadn't believed Professor Davidoff so many months ago, when he'd called her down to his office and first presented her with a letter from a woman he'd claimed was her birth mother. Even after she'd read Jocinda's words, she hadn't believed it. The letter had given her everything she'd ever wanted and more. A loving birth mother who'd been searching for her daughter since the day she was snatched away and placed in the muggle foster system. A family who cared for her, waiting for the right time to snatch her away from the shadows and into the light. And more, so much more. An inherited gift. Acknowledgement of her strange obsession with fire and proof beyond measure that Rae was no ordinary witch. She was special.

Now, of course, Rae believed. Jocinda – her mother – knew things about her that no one else could possibly know. She knew about Rae's obsession with fire and her natural ability to perform fire-based charms, explaining the pull that Rae's father had felt to the flames. Rae had never revealed the extent of her obsession to anyone. Slowly but surely, Jocinda had gained her trust completely.

And soon, mother and daughter would be reunited at last. Rae was sure of it.

X

Tucked away in the opposite corner of the Great Hall, Chloe Saunders quietly closed the ancient book of Necromancy that Derek had given her and pulled her Gryffindor robes tighter around her shoulders, shuddering to herself.

Power over the dead. She'd always known of her ability, of course, but somehow, reading the details of her family "gift" as dictated by ancient practitioners of dark magic made her tremble. She wasn't sure where Derek's father had gotten this book from but she knew for a fact that it didn't belong in the main section of the library – she wasn't even sure that the restricted section should stack it.

I'm cursed, she thought, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling tightly, as though hoping she could fold in on herself entirely. I've been practising dark magic since the day I was born. I'm the very thing we're taught to protect ourselves against in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I shouldn't be here… I don't belong…

She wondered briefly if this had been Derek's plan when he gave her the book. To frighten her. Scare p-poor, st-stuttering Chloe Saunders so badly that she'd never breathe a word of his or Davidoff's plans to any of her mouthy, back-stabbing Gryffindor friends. But she instantly dismissed the idea. Derek wasn't exactly the sociable, easy-going guy his brother was, but she knew that he was fiercely loyal. Though they'd only befriended each other this past week, she sensed that he wouldn't betray her trust. Not to anyone.

She would never betray him either, she realised. Despite the bruises he'd left on her arm; despite her plans to find out exactly what dreadful, monstrous ability Derek had been hiding from her – and she was still adamant in her plan to follow him tonight – Chloe wasn't planning on telling a soul.

She cast a glance towards the Ravenclaw side of the hall once more, straining her eyes for a glimpse of Derek. Nobody stirred.

What now? She thought anxiously. After what she'd just read… she wanted more than anything to confide in someone. Anybody would do. But no one knew of her secret and none of her friends seemed to be suitable confidants after everything that had happened. Chloe didn't think she'd ever fully trust Beth, Kari or Miranda with a secret ever again. And Rae… well, she wasn't at all sure where her friendship with Rae stood right now.

Chloe knew who she wanted to talk to. Simon. Before, she hadn't even considered confiding in the popular Hufflepuff Chaser, but now that her involvement in Davidoff's experiments had been revealed, she knew that she could trust him almost as implicitly as she trusted his brother. And she did trust Derek. His inhuman strength had shaken her to her core but she still remembered the apologetic look in his eyes as she fled. Now, given everything that she'd read in the last few hours about her own horrific powers, Derek's lapse in self-control seemed like nothing. They were both monsters but Chloe was sure that he fought against his dark powers as much as she did. And almost without her realising it was happening, Derek had become the one person in the entire school that that she knew she could speak to honestly. The only thing stopping her from running to his side right that moment was the awkwardness that always seemed to hang in the air between them. Derek wasn't renowned for his social skills. Though she knew that he would listen and offer his honest opinion, Chloe wasn't sure that his advice would be comforting. And she doubted he'd want to listen to her problems, especially since he had plenty of his own. No, Simon was the brother to talk to. She wanted a comforting lie, not harsh truths.

She checked her watch. Almost midnight. Perhaps she could also convince Simon to tell her what time Derek was planning to leave the hall…

Her mind made up, Chloe tucked the Necromancy book underneath her sleeping bag and squinted through the sea of sleeping faces, searching for Simon or one of his many friends. Most students were asleep, but a few were still awake, whispering amongst themselves. The mood of the student body had worsened during their second day of confinement to the Great Hall with no sign of Liz anywhere in the castle or the surrounding grounds. Many students were asleep but tossing and turning restlessly. Teachers paced back and forth, keeping watch. Chloe knew it would be impossible to stand up and search for Simon without drawing attention to herself.

Unless… Chloe grinned in the dark, an idea forming. Hastily, she pulled her wand from a pocket in her dressing gown and tapped her head, whispering an incantation under her breath. At once, a cool trickling sensation spread down and through her body. Blinking, she looked down and experienced the strange sensation of seeing through her body to the floor below.

"Yes!" she whispered, overjoyed by her success. She'd never cast a disillusionment charm on herself before. Standing up, she tip-toed through the hall, careful not to draw attention to herself though she was sure that if any teacher did notice her now they'd simply mistake her for a passing ghost.

A shiver ran through her. Now she was the ghost.

Chloe spotted Simon almost instantly, asleep beside a group of fellow Hufflepuff boys at the base of the head table where the professors usually sat. But as she made her way over to him, something caught her eye and stopped her in her tracks. She looked up, through the arched windows behind the head table which overlooked the school grounds. Again, she saw a flicker of movement. Instantly, she thought of Liz.

Pressing her palms to the cool glass, what she saw made her gasp out in surprise.

"Derek?" she breathed.

There was no mistaking that dark figure. Derek Souza was walking at a hurried pace across the grounds, heading for what seemed to be the Whomping Willow; the ancient, gnarled tree tossed its dark branches threateningly in his direction but it didn't seem to deter him. She squinted and focused her attention on Derek again. Something wasn't right. Over the last few days she'd noted that despite his bulk Derek could move as lithely and quietly as Mrs. Norris when he wanted to slip by unnoticed. But at this moment in time he was… limping.

Their altercation from earlier in the afternoon flitted into her mind and she rubbed the bruises on her arm, recalling the intensity of his gaze and the deftness with which he'd moved as he blocked her hand from reaching out to him in comfort. How could anything hurt a guy as strong and powerful as Derek? And yet, he was clearly injured.

Had part of his plan gone wrong? She cursed herself for not noticing him leave the hall. She'd been keeping one eye on his corner of the hall all night and hadn't seen a single movement but he'd obviously evaded her. And now he was all alone, hurt, maybe even unable to sneak back into the hall unnoticed…

Her mind was made up in less than a second. Sneaking along the wall where the shadows were darkest, she waited until none of the teachers' eyes were trained on the main doors and made her move. Opening the door without alerting any teachers was difficult – the wood was heavy and creaked ever-so-slightly as she slid it open just wide enough for her to slide through. But luckily the door didn't seem to be charmed in any way. Chloe was surprised by that. Surely the door should be magically locked or at least enchanted with a detection spell?

Derek's words from earlier came back to her: Dad'll help me leave tonight. Simon and Derek's dad was a Hogwarts professor. He was sure to know all the security used to protect the hall… and how to remove it. This must be how Professor Bae had helped Derek escape undetected. Still, the lack of supervision tonight made her uneasy. Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe haven. But the danger was inside the walls and she hadn't felt safe in the castle for a while now.

Briefly, she thought of sneaking back in and waking Simon. He'd want to help his brother and two minds would be better than one. But Derek was out there, hurt and alone. She didn't want to waste another second.

Ghosts swarmed around her as she ran down the castle steps – clearly the potion Professor Davidoff had given her was making its way out of her system. She shivered, both from the cold night wind biting at her skin through her thin nightclothes and from the thought that Professor Davidoff would likely try to speak to her – and experiment with her power – again, soon.

The moon was full and bright, casting a ghostly white light upon the castle and its grounds. For a moment, Chloe could only gaze at the beauty of the sloping lawns and gently rippling waters of the lake in awe. And then movement flickered across her vision again. Derek had made it to the Whomping Willow. And it was attacking him.

"Derek!" she shouted as loudly as she could. "Derek! Stop!"

He glanced back, surprise flitting across his face, but he didn't seem to see her. As she ran towards him, the willow raked a thin whip-like branch across his forehead and he staggered back, dripping blood. Another, thicker branch slammed into his back, knocking him off his feet. He fell with his arms outstretched towards the tree and pulled himself up using a knot in the trunk which protruded sharply outwards.

Instantly, the tree stilled. Chloe, who had nearly halved the distance between them, stilled too. Shock prevented her from racing forwards or crying out again. In all her time at Hogwarts, she'd never seen the Whomping Willow so still. She'd never known it was possible to get so close to the tree and live to tell the tale.

Despite his limp and the pain Chloe could now see on his face, Derek was still moving quickly. Keeping one hand on the knot, he bent down to a small opening in the earth which had appeared when the tree stilled. As Chloe watched in disbelief, his whole body slid underneath the tree and was swallowed from sight. She gaped. How had Derek known about this place?

There was no time to puzzle over it now. The tree was moving again. She had to get to that passage and follow Derek if she wanted to know the truth about what on earth was happening tonight.

Unfortunately, the tree seemed even more riled up and bloodthirsty than usual by the time she reached the edge a few minutes later, no doubt because its prey had escaped it once already. Chloe dug her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown and tried a few spells but they seemed to have no effect. She tried swerving the nearest branch, but only succeeded in angering the tree further. The branch whipped towards her, slicing a deep gash in her cheek before she could stagger back.

Even the ghosts seemed to steer clear of the tree, she noticed as she raised her sleeve to mop up the blood from her cheek, yelping aloud as she applied pressure to the stinging wound. One of the closest ghosts looked at her curiously, but didn't speak. She wondered if these ghosts – the ghosts she saw but no one else did – could even speak. What made them different from the ghosts who interacted with the students of Hogwarts on a daily basis? And then she remembered something she'd read in the book Derek had given her just a few hours ago.

Dark magic. Dangerous. Power over the dead.

"You," she said, pointing at the ghost of a curious elderly man. "Help me. Please."

The ghost's eyes widened and Chloe was afraid that if he weren't already dead she would have given him a heart attack. He said nothing, seemingly incapable of communication.

Chloe groaned in frustration. What was it the book had said about communicating with the dead? Something about proximity to the grave site, an item belonging to the individual, a complex ritual process… all things she couldn't afford to waste time with. She needed a way into that passage, fast. If she couldn't do it using her powers, she thought – anxiously twisting her necklace so tight that the chain dug into her palm – then she'd just have to improvise.

But as she raised her wand again, the chain of her necklace snapped, the red pendant slipping out of her grasp and falling to the dew-covered grass at her feet. Chloe couldn't help it – she gasped. The ghostly old man suddenly appeared more substantial to her than before. In fact, so did all the other ghosts surrounding the tree. And she could feel the earth beneath her feet, sense the rot and decay lying in the depths of the forest reaching out, calling to her –

"Girl!" It was the old man. His eyes widened. "That spell don't fool me. You're one of them, ent you, girl? One of them necromancers."

"Yesss," hissed another ghost – a middle-aged woman with dark hair curled into an elaborate bun. "I can see your glow, my dear. Blinding, it is. However did you keep it hidden so long, 'ey?"

"I-I-I don't know wh-what you – "

More ghosts surrounded her, the din of their voices becoming unbearable. Even though Chloe knew they couldn't touch her, claustrophobia crept in. And they looked so corporal now…

"Shut up!" Chloe snapped. "Go away, go away, go away! Please!"

Silence swept over the crowd. Chloe blinked. Then, one by one, the ghosts flickered and blinked out of existence until the swaying of the tree was all she could see around her.

No ghosts. They'd listened to her. Obeyed her, just like they always did. Her mother's necklace had somehow protected her from them all these years, but they still obeyed her, even without that protection. That was comforting to know.

Chloe might have collapsed to the ground in exhaustion at that point if it weren't for the howling wind that swept through the tree's branches. For a moment, it sounded almost like a human howl.

Derek.

She tensed, preparing to fire another spell at the tree, but a rustling sound distracted her. What she saw when she turned and squinted into the darkness made her stagger back dangerously close to the tree's swaying branches, heart thumping quicker in her chest.

The ghosts clearly weren't the only creatures that had noticed her power when the necklace broke. Because at her feet, dragging itself along by its claws was a mangled, dirty, dead cat.

Chloe stared.

Power over the dead.

Did that apply to animals, too? Only one way to find out. She bent down and pocketed her broken necklace, then clenched her fists tightly, her voice shaking as she said, "St-Stop. Please."

The cat stopped. A whine tore from its throat. It looked like it was in pain, and despite the horror of the situation, Chloe was moved with pity for the poor bedraggled creature. But a plan formed in her mind. Voice still shaking, she issued the cat one more command.

The cat howled once more, but dragged itself along the ground in obedience, not even deterred by the tree's angry branches which bent as low as possible to swipe at the stinking dead cat's matted fur. Chloe watched silently, her mind shutting down, overwhelmed by the events of the last few minutes.

Focus on getting into that passage and helping Derek, she told herself. You can deal with the rest of this later.

The cat reached up on its broken hind legs to touch the knot and the tree froze once more. Chloe darted to the passage in the ground, trying to ignore the stench of the dead cat beside her.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was no longer trembling. "I… erm… I release you."

The cat simply stared back at her, unblinkingly.

Chloe shut her eyes. Imagined the cat's soul released from the rotting cage of its body. She wasn't sure what to do. The book had told her that this kind of power required complex dark magic, but she had raised the cat unknowingly, simply by asking for help. She took a deep breath and tried again, imagining the cat lying down, lying still as the tree's branches…

When she opened her eyes, the cat had slumped to the base of the tree. She slid into the passage just as the tree began to move once more.

The passage slid down underground and evened out into a low tunnel. Chloe scrambled to her feet, brushing the dirt off her pyjamas and looked around.

"Lumos," she whispered. Light bloomed at the end of her wand as she began to follow the path that would lead her to Derek.

Less than five minutes later, the tunnel rose and twisted, opening out into a dark, dusty room that stank of mildew – the rotten, decaying scent of disuse. And in the middle of the room was –

"Derek!" Chloe whispered.

He was stooped on all fours, as if the condition that had caused his limp was now so bad that he couldn't even stand. He wore a pair of boxers, but he'd tossed his robes and the rest of his clothing to the side. In any other circumstances, Chloe would have blushed and turned away. But Derek was shaking and his back was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked ill. Violently ill, Chloe thought in alarm as a tremor racked through his body. Derek turned at the sound of her voice, his bright green eyes squinting in the darkness.

"No," he murmured, his voice deeper and even more gravelly than usual. "Chloe? Is… is that you?"

Chloe looked down at herself. Of course. The disillusionment charm was still in effect. She hastily performed the counter-charm and knelt beside Derek just as his body trembled and his head sank to the rotten floorboards, dry-heaving.

"It's me," she said. She pushed back his sweat-soaked hair to feel his forehead. He was burning up. Badly.

"Ch-Chloe," he managed to say between gasps for air. "You need to get out of here."

As she watched, he tensed again and to her astonishment, the bones in his jaw shifted. He turned his face away from her, but he couldn't hide the fur sprouting up along his arms.

Trembling, Chloe got to her feet, her mind reeling.

Derek's inhuman strength. His sickness earlier that day. The full moon.

The pieces clicked into place and Chloe felt herself take a step back, reaching out to steady herself on a rickety old table.

"It's a rare genetic ability that can be passed on through magical lineage," Derek had said. Lycanthropy was a genetic condition, passed down through the male line. And then there were the rumours about Derek. Absurd rumours that Chloe had dismissed as soon as her friends had voiced them. But now…

"You… you're a werewolf," Chloe said, numbly. A tiny voice in the back of her head told her to move. Werewolves were dangerous. They'd studied them in their third year.

But… none of this made sense. Derek had been out in the full moon earlier. Surely he should have turned then? Instead, here he was, suffering unbearable agony underground. It seemed like his body was protesting the Change, like it shouldn't be happening here and now…

"Davidoff," Chloe realised. All this time, Derek had been warning Chloe away from Davidoff, but even though he knew exactly what their deranged professor was planning, he hadn't stopped meeting him alone, had he? He'd warned Chloe not to take any potions Davidoff gave her… but surely in order to gain Davidoff's trust he'd had to accept some potions too…

She remembered the book Derek had dropped. The gleam in his eyes when he told her that he'd been researching Davidoff's methods.

The wide-eyed terror in Derek's eyes told her everything she needed to know. Her hunch was right. Derek was good-hearted enough to want to stop Davidoff's experimentation on kids, but he'd told her himself that he was a monster. Perhaps he really did believe that. Perhaps despite everything, he still desperately hoped for a cure.

Whatever Davidoff had done to him, he hadn't stopped the Change completely. Chloe gripped her wand tightly, just in case. Then she knelt down beside him again and lay her hand on his back.

Derek tensed and rolled away from her. "Go!" he shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Davidoff," she said again. "You've been taking his potions, haven't you?"

Derek didn't answer. He gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut as another tremor ran through his body. He turned his face away from her as sweat dripped from his tensed jaw.

"You idiot," she breathed. "You hypocrite. So you can boss everyone else around to keep them safe, but it doesn't matter what happens to you? You think it's okay for Davidoff to use you as a human guinea-pig, but it's too dangerous for me or anyone else to get involved?"

"Just go," Derek growled.

It occurred to her in that moment that despite his intelligence and sarcastic wit, Derek Souza was more suited to Gryffindor than any of the girls she shared a dormitory with. Brave and chivalrous. He'd risked his own safety to get more information from Davidoff. He'd threatened her to stay away from Davidoff, hoping to keep her – a stranger – out of harm's way. And he'd told no one of the burden he was bearing out here alone. Chloe doubted Simon or even Professor Bae knew that Derek's transformation tonight would not be his usual Change.

Her heart clenched uncomfortably in her chest. He was all alone. And terrified. All because he cared so much for his family that he refused to let them worry about him.

"I'll tell you everything," he gasped, the words muffled as though his mouth was changing shape even as he spoke. "Everything. Later. If you leave. Now."

"I can't," she said. She'd come here to help him, assuming he was in pain. How could she leave knowing that his pain had only just begun? "I'm staying. You don't know what'll happen, right? You don't know what Davidoff's done to you. You need someone to stay with you."

"No," Derek gasped, his fingers curling into claws. "Dangerous. Run."

Maybe it was stupid to stay, but she couldn't leave him. Not like this. Not while he writhed in pain, clamping his teeth together with the effort not to cry out.

"Hey," she said, reaching out to him. This time, when she gingerly placed her hand on his back, he didn't flinch. "I'm a monster too, remember? Whatever happens, I can handle it."

"No."

"Watch me."

"No. You… you're not… a… monster." He looked up at her, green eyes meeting blue. Both sets wide with terror. In spite of everything, a smile – a real smile – touched the corner of his lips. Then he grimaced.

"Keep… your wand… ready," Derek managed to say before turning his face away from her, black hair falling like drapes across his cheeks once more.

And then the Change really began.

The next few minutes were a blur to Chloe. She kept one hand on Derek's back, even as his muscles shifted and fur sprouted up between her fingers. She kept murmuring soft words of comfort, even as his howls of pain become more inhuman. Because she somehow instinctively knew that the pain Derek was experiencing now was far worse than any pain he'd previously experienced during the full moon.

Then, quite suddenly, the body beneath her hand stopped trembling. His breathing slowed. And the creature that lay in Derek's place was not a werewolf.

Derek had Changed, yes. But he had transformed into an actual wolf, not one of the monstrous creatures Chloe had studied in Defence Against the Dark Arts. This was the result of Professor Davidoff's experimentation. The wolf had thick, glossy black fur. It stretched and rose onto its hind legs and Chloe took a careful step back, wand at the ready.

Even real wolves are dangerous, she reminded herself.

But then it turned to face her, and Chloe relaxed at the sight of the wolf's eyes. Derek's eyes. There was no mistaking that brilliant shade of green.

"Derek?" she whispered. The wolf blinked at her, then lowered his glossy black head. She took that to be a nod.

"This is…" She trailed off, staring at him in awe. "This is incredible. Are you… still you?"

The wolf snorted, as if to say, 'Course I am. He padded over to her. She reached out tentatively to sink her fingers into his fur. It felt warm and rough. Comforting, somehow. The wolf closed his eyes sleepily.

"I knew it," she said smugly. "I knew you wouldn't hurt me. You couldn't."

Derek backed up. His muzzle found the bruises on her arm and he whined. It was a short, miserable sound. Chloe stared. She hadn't known Derek was capable of showing such emotion – especially towards her. Perhaps it was easier for him in this form, in these surroundings. Now she knew everything. He didn't have to hold back.

"That was an accident. It scared me, but… you didn't mean to hurt me and I know that now. Besides…" She thought about the dead cat she'd raised and shuddered. "We've all done things we're not proud of."

Derek made a rumbling noise that seemed to start deep within his chest, almost like a wolfie version of a purr. He bumped her side. Thank you, his eyes seemed to say.

She leaned into him, inhaling the warm, woodsy smell of his fur. She suddenly felt exhausted as the events of the last hour overwhelmed her.

"You're welcome," she whispered as her eyes drooped shut.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has continually supported this story! We're almost at the end...

As always, reviewers will get a preview of the next chapter. :)