The moment she woke on the morning of the full moon, Lavender felt like a caged thing. Maybe next month she would take Wolfsbane, just to see if it helped. The wolfish part of her was scared and it felt like she was being hunted, even in the bright light of day with the moon still below the horizon. She paced her the hallways of her flat, not eating, barely seeing what she was doing. Her clothes were constricting so she tore them off but that offered only scant relief.
She only made it until noon before she knew she had to get out, despite the danger. The moon wouldn't be up for another few hours anyway, so she should be fine. She forced herself back into clothes, a baggy old sweater and jeans that had gone unwashed in a week, and slipped outside. She barely remembered to do up the hexes on her door, but since her home felt like a cage, she didn't think they would matter all that much. She didn't care if someone came in. She had to get out.
Lavender stalked down the street, ignoring people who looked at her like she was someone unhinged. She didn't care about the looks right now. The outside helped but she still felt like she was humming with energy and so she picked up her pace until she was flat out running along the streets, leaving scattered people and pigeons in her wake.
She found herself at the Half Moon Tavern before she skidded to a halt, gasping to refill her lungs with the chilly winter air. She took just a moment to smooth her hair and pin it up and straighten her clothes after her mad dash. Already people were looking at her, but it was less of the fear stares she had been getting before and more looks of understanding. She cracked a smile without a hint of humor in it. She was home.
The barkeeper greeted her with her usual glass of red wine. "Can I get something to eat too?" She asked.
He nodded. "One rare steak, coming right up." He clearly knew his clientele and Lavender felt a little relaxed for the first time all day. She was still hyped up, could still feel her blood running hot and fast through her veins, but being out, around others like her, she felt better.
And there were others like her here. She counted at least three half werewolves by scent alone, and when she looked around the tavern she met their eyes. Yellow eyes, much like she knew hers must be. The three of them sat together in a booth and one made a little motion towards her, beckoning her over. Ignoring the dimly human part of her mind that was screaming this was a bad idea, she picked up her glass of wine and sauntered over, projecting her aura of confidence and power that she was working on perfecting.
"We might not be wolves, but the moon still calls," one of the yellow-eyed men said. There was one woman among them, an older lady with enough scars criss-crossing her face to put Lavender's own collection to shame. The man who had spoken was older as well, and there was a familiarity between him and the woman that made Lavender think they were more than just friends. The other man at the table was probably five or six years older than Lavender herself, with dirty blond hair and green eyes that had a feverish glow to them. Not yellow, as she was expecting, and that seemed strange.
"How do you handle it?" Lavender asked. She notices that the woman had a wand, but the two men did not. "Wolfsbane?"
The woman shrugged. "I tried Wolfsbane once, when it first came was produced. It doesn't work on us."
Lavender's steak came and she dug in ravenously. Her run had awoken her appetite and she was starving. The others watched her eat but she didn't feel threatened by it. It was like her body knew that these people weren't going to hurt her, that they were all suffering through the same thing. "I'm Lavender, by the way," she belatedly introduced herself after she had sated herself.
"Adeline," the woman introduced herself. "This is Danny and the pup is Max. Our son." Lavender restrained her surprised reaction at that, but once she knew what to look for, she saw that Max and Adeline had the same eyes, and Max and Danny had the same cheekbones. Taking another whiff of the air, she was shocked that she hadn't noticed before that Max was a full werewolf. What on earth was he doing out in public the day of the full moon?
"You're a werewolf?" Lavender asked, unable to help herself.
Max grinned at her. He didn't have a scar at all that she could see, and that was very strange. All the werewolves she had met, or even anyone who had encountered a werewolf, had scars. That's just how it was. "Runs in the family."
"But..." she trailed off, confused.
Max shrugged. "Mom and Dad were both attacked years before I was born but they didn't turn. I was born a werewolf."
Something about him unnerved her, but maybe that was just her wolf reacting to his. He seemed calmer than he should be, much calmer than she was, and so she tried to ignore the faint growl in her mind. Lavender didn't want to seem like she was interrogating this strange family, but at the same time, she hadn't really met anyone else who had been attacked but not turned. "Aren't you worried to be out on the full moon? The Ministry says there's a rogue werewolf who's been hunting people like us."
Adeline scoffed. "The Ministry doesn't give half a damn about us. And what would be so wrong with being turned, really? Then at least people could fear me for a real reason and not just because of my scars."
Lavender knew that feeling uncomfortably well. She hadn't wanted to be a full werewolf, of course, but she didn't know if she'd feel that way in a year or two. It was bad enough that people looked at her like she was a broken, wild, wolf thing – might as well give them a reason to be scared. Still, it was chilling to hear those words from the mouth of a woman who had a werewolf for a son and must know the realities of his life.
"The Ministry should care," she commented quietly. "They should care about us."
"But they don't," Max interjected, bitterness in his voice. "It doesn't matter what they should do because they don't."
"Max..." Adeline sighed. It sounded like an old argument. Adeline had accepted their fate and Max was still angry about it.
Lavender hadn't realized how much time had been passing as they talked and the next time she looked out the small, grimy window of the Half Moon Tavern, she could see the sun setting. "Damn," she swore lightly. "I have to be getting home. Thank you all very much for the company."
Adeline nodded slowly. "We'll talk again, I'm sure."
Lavender gave them a quick smile before stepping outside. Dark was falling fast and she felt her stomach jump a little in fear. She had sworn to be home by dark. Actually, she had promised Hannah that she wouldn't leave her house at all on the full moon, but she knew that if she hadn't left she would have chewed her own arm off from frustration.
She walked fast and by the time she had made the turn back to Diagon Alley the lamps were being lit, throwing wild shadows over the street. The shadows made her flinch like a wild thing, and the feeling of being chased by a number of enemies did nothing to help her frazzled nerves.
When the moon came up it was as if Lavender had been electrified. Her senses were on high alert, her nose scenting the wind like it held the secrets to life. Her eyes changed as well, seeing fewer colors but more shadow and grey, and more of the wild shadows thrown out by the lamplight. Her hair was all on end and she twitched at the slightest movement out of the corner of her eye. It was because of those shadows and the scents on the air that she was able to dodge of of the way of a snarling wolf.
She let out a shriek as the wolf, grey and black and with gleaming yellow eyes, skidded to a halt on the cobblestones. It had raked her arm with its nails but it hadn't bitten her, she didn't think. No time to check. No one was around on this windy full moon night, but Lavender only hoped someone would hear her yelling and come help. She drew her wand with a flash, shooting sparks at the wolf to keep it back. Its eyes were fixed on her, terribly human in rage, and it made another charge at her, jaws wide.
Fear bloomed in her as it jumped. All the memories of being attacked last year came back to her in an instant, despite the fact that Greyback had been totally human. Having a wolf attacking her didn't make it any easier to handle, but she had been trained for this. She ducked aside and kept her feet moving, not letting the wolf pin her in a corner or against a wall. It was just one. She could handle this.
This wasn't the time for personal realizations, but she instantly realized that yes, she had actually trained for this. Not specifically being attacked by a werewolf, but being attacked, facing an opponent that wanted to kill her or at least hurt her severely. Last time Greyback had leapt on her from behind as she had tried to shove a fourth year girl to safety – this time, she was armed, facing the wolf, and angry. Angry that he would try to turn her when her life was already hell. Angry that he thought he could scare her with his snarls. Angry at Seamus, because he thought that she couldn't handle this. Angry at a government that had turned someone into a savage thing because of lack of support, or options.
She took a step back and leveled her wand at the wolf. "I don't want to hurt you," she yelled at it. She didn't, not really. She just didn't want to get more hurt.
It roared as it jumped at her again, jaws open. Lavender tried her duck out of the way again as she shot more sparks at it, singeing its fur. Quicker than she had expected it the wolf whirled and clawed at her again, ripping open her robes and skin. It jumped on her and pinned her and she willed herself not to panic as it snapped at her face, grazing her skin with its teeth as she tried to keep her arm across its throat to keep it back. She blasted it with a cry of "Stupefy!" and felt, rather than saw, the spell hit it right in the chest.
It went limp on top of her and she kicked its unconscious body off of her, shaking from fear, dripping her blood and the blood of the wolf onto the stones of the street. She scrambled away from it, terror still flowing through her like a river as she frantically moved away from the limp body. Once she was about five feet away from it she pointed her wand at it and shot thin ropes at it, binding its paws together and muzzling its mouth. Her wand trembled in her hand but she held it steady as best as she could.
Looking around for the first time, she saw that a group of people had massed around her. Maybe they had been going to help, she though. "Call the Ministry," she rasped, voice hoarse from shouting. When she looked at a man he flinched back and she realized she must look a mess. She could feel her wounds still bleeding and her clothing torn around her, but she could also feel the white moonlight seeping into them and soothing the hurt. "Someone call the Aurors!" She yelled, voice cracking. Lavender felt like she was cracking too, about to fall apart at the seams.
The wolf lay motionless until the cracks of Aurors apparating in made it stir. It twitched once before she shot another flare of red light at it, hitting it directly in the head. Her wand was still outstretched and her heart was still racing when someone came over to remove her wand from her hand, whispering meaningless comforts to her and telling her to calm down as he did so. She let go of her wand reluctantly, only fully releasing it when she realized it was one of the Aurors doing so.
"What happened?" She heard another Auror asking one of the bystanders as two more of them approached the body of the still wolf.
"I don't know exactly, sir," the man answered. "We came out when we saw the flashing lights and heard the woman yelling, then the werewolf jumped on her and bit her, I think – "
That made Lavender stir from her fear-induced tunnel vision. The wolf hadn't bitten her. It had scratched her to bits with both claws and teeth but she didn't have any puncture wounds. She had done enough research to know that it had to be a proper bite to turn her into a werewolf, from a fully transformed wolf under the light of the full moon. The wolf had raked his teeth over her face and his claws over her arms, but it hadn't actually sunk its teeth into her. "I haven't been bitten," she muttered, voice breaking and quiet.
They all ignored her, even the one that was holding her upper arm. She looked at his hand. When did that happen? "Hey," she called out louder, forcing her voice to work. "I haven't been bitten!"
"Alright," the Auror holding her said even as his hand tightened slightly on her arm. "You haven't been bitten, alright."
She settled slightly and let him drag her to her feet. At least he believed her. She stumbled away with the Aurors as one of them levitated the werewolf's body, flinching every time it moved. That had been too close of a call for her to be comfortable with. Dazed and relieved, she didn't fight as she was side-along apparated back to the Ministry and marched through the doors.
They deposited her in a small room with a thin mattress and a pile of blankets and said they would be back later. Once they were gone she collapsed onto the bed and tried to let her shakes subside, bleeding still lightly from her wounds. What a night.