CHAPTER TEN: WEREWOLVES

The small achievements soon started to add up and improve over the next few days. For one, and without asking, Regulus would stand at the sink whenever Flora washed the dishes and wait patiently with a tea towel, ready to dry. He put the clean washing to dry by the fire once — granted, it was his washing and his washing alone, but Flora was stunned all the same. She didn't want him touching her clothes and knickers anyway. She didn't remark much about this change that had apparently come over him for fear he would get haughty again and stop helping. So she just thanked him instead, which Regulus acknowledged with a stiff, wordless nod.

Nothing much happened during that first week of October; there was still not even an argument between them, barring the small moments they would bicker about something silly. But there had been no nasty, cruel arguments like there had been when he first arrived at the cottage. Flora started to feel more at ease as that week drew to an end, at least around Regulus, but her general unease returned with the full moon. She hadn't seen Remus or Sirius since her birthday; and she was particularly anxious to see Remus. Seeing him just before full moons made her feel slightly better, as though it were a way to confirm all was well, to ensure he was strong and ready for the upcoming transformation. It was silly, she knew that, but she liked to see him all the same.

It was midnight when Flora woke very suddenly. The full moon was high in the sky, its shimmering white light illuminating the end of her bed. She blinked her heavy eyes, slow, confused. She didn't know what time it was, but somehow felt certain it was the deepest and darkest part of the night. She didn't know what had woken her, for she usually slept without interruption, but thought little of it and rolled over to face away from the window. She pulled the covers around herself, warm and sleepy, and was steadily drifting off back to sleep when she heard it — a howl. A wolf howl. Flora's eyes snapped open, this time without heaviness or confusion; she'd heard it clearly. She laid very still for a moment just listening, wanting to be sure her mind and ears weren't playing tricks on her. Another minute passed and she heard it again. There were more of them this time and it sounded like barking. What chilled her most was how close these sounds were. She sat up and stared towards the window, listening as hard as she could. They started again, howling no further than perhaps twenty metres away. But then maybe these were just wild dogs, she reasoned, trying to calm her racing mind; however, the other side of her mind told her there were no wild dogs in Wales, and there were certainly no wolves.

Panicked, Flora climbed out of bed and rushed to her door, forgetting her dressing gown and slippers in her rush. Her only thought was to rouse Regulus, feeling glad for once that he was there. She rapped hurriedly on his door.

"Regulus!" She hissed loudly when there was no response. She knocked again, harder, called his name again. Finally she heard him stirring behind the door; the bed creaked, she heard him breathe heavily through his nose, and then the floorboards squeak as he treaded towards the door.

"What?" He demanded the moment he set eyes on Flora. His curls were sticking up in just about every direction. He stood partially behind the door, guarding his modesty, for he was again without a shirt.

"Regulus, I heard something outside," she replied in a rush. Her voice was weak and small.

"Heard what?" He frowned, still irritated.

"I don't know… something…" she couldn't seem to say it with ease. "Wolves."

"Is that not normal around here?" He said abruptly. His eyes briefly glanced downwards from her face to her chest. It was such a fleeting look, but Flora noticed it. She crossed her arms across her breasts, suddenly highly aware of the fact she was without a dressing gown and he could probably see through her thin nightie.

"There aren't wolves in Wales, stupid," Flora snapped back, still speaking in a hushed tone. "And these don't sound like normal wolves."

"Maybe it was some other animal."

"Regulus," Flora huffed. "Come listen. Come, follow me."

Regulus stepped out in just his boxer shorts, begrudgingly following Flora as she'd already turned away, expecting him to be behind her. Flora could scarcely believe she was willingly leading Regulus into her bedroom, and with both of them in a mortifying state of undress. For himself, Regulus looked incredulous and highly suspicious of her.

"They don't sound very far away," she whispered as they walked into her room. She quickly pulled on her dressing gown, firmly wrapping it around herself. She didn't turn on a light. She stood very still as they neared the window, standing at the end of her bed. They both fell silent, just listening. They listened for a good three or four minutes without hearing anything. Standing in such tense silence as this felt more like three or four hours, particularly as they were standing so close together. Flora could feel his body heat, hear his soft breath close to her ear.

"I don't hear anything," Regulus said finally, still eyeing her distrustfully.

Flora didn't reply for a long moment. She moved away from him, giving him a disapproving once-over as she acknowledged his partial nudity, and walked a little closer to the window to peer outside.

"I swear I heard it," she said, twitching at the curtains with her fingers.

"You were probably dreaming," Regulus said dismissively.

"I was not dreaming," Flora snapped back, her anger flaring.

"Then maybe it was your brother and my brother," he drawled.

"Oh, yeah, having a lark and a laugh ten feet away from the cottage?" Flora replied with sarcasm. "This was a whole pack anyway. It sounded like more than one or two."

"Maybe badgers," he offered.

Flora turned to look at him, her frown and disbelief deepening. "Badgers? Badgers? Are you actually stupid? Do you even know what animals are?"

"Well, I've only heard badgers once in my life and—" he began defensively, very clearly offended she'd dismissed him so abruptly when he was genuinely trying to be helpful.

"Oh, just be quiet," Flora turned back to the window. She jumped when he suddenly came closer, just inches behind her. There was a glance between them, just a short glance, and it made Flora's stomach sink pleasantly just to have him look at her. His dark hair, still messy, curled over his eyes in a way that made Flora want to reach out and push it back. She felt suddenly felt embarrassed and looked away.

"Go back to bed…" she said finally when no further noise presented itself.

Regulus didn't move. He stayed still, listening. He put one finger up to shush Flora when she opened her mouth again to speak. Then the sound returned; it was louder this time, or perhaps just closer. Flora started in alarm and instinctively touched Regulus' bare arm, her fingers brushing the somewhat small, but well-defined muscle. She stood close to him. Regulus didn't react to her touching him; he looked about in confusion, listening to the wild howls and wondering from which direction they were coming.

"What the hell…" he murmured under his breath.

"Are they near us?" Flora asked, her face white.

"If they are, they won't be able to detect us," Regulus said after a beat. "The wards are still up."

"Are you sure?"

Regulus again didn't answer right away and this caused Flora to shake his arm quite roughly. "Regulus!"

"Yes!" He hissed irritably, pulling his arm away. "Yes, I'm sure. We're perfectly safe."

"You're not just saying that make me feel better?"

"As making you feel better is not something I concern myself with, I can assure you I'm not just saying things."

"Why did they sound so close?"

"Because they probably are," he admitted, creeping closer to the window to peer out behind the muslin curtain again. "But they can't find us."

"But why are they around here?"

"I don't know!" He snapped, turning to look at her. Flora saw then that he looked as anxious as she felt. His brow was knitted deeply. "I don't know, alright? But they can't find us, so just go back to sleep and we'll tell Sirius and your brother about it tomorrow."

"I couldn't possibly sleep now," Flora fretted. "How can you?"

"I put my head down and shut my eyes," he replied dryly.

Flora moved away irritably, pulling her dressing gown around herself again. "Well, I'm going to sit downstairs and have a cup of tea."

Regulus drew away from the window, his gaze shifting to her. "I'll join then."

"As you please," Flora grumbled, feigning indifference when privately she felt relieved he was joining. "But put some clothes on."

Regulus went back into his room to dress while Flora went downstairs to start the tea. She was troubled, but she found it was not the werewolves being so near her cottage that troubled her. It was that feeling she'd felt when Regulus had looked at her in the dim light of the moon. That delicious sinking feeling in her stomach. As she prepared the cups of tea, she thought how wonderfully self-destructive it would be to fall in love with a boy like him, a boy who she had every reason to despise as he despised her. But she liked his eyes, she thought, feeling a little foolish; she liked the way they lingered on her sometimes, particularly when he was in a playful mood. And she liked how tall he was. She did not think him as masculine as Sirius, but Regulus was uncommonly beautiful for a boy. Kissing him was an almost irresistible thought. However, Flora would not betray these feelings to him; after all, he was still an insufferable bigot. Her feelings were a revelation, certainly, but ones which she pushed to the furtherest corner of her mind as Regulus came downstairs to join her. He was properly dressed, not in pyjamas, but in his day clothes.

"I thought Sirius bought you some pyjamas," Flora remarked.

"I wanted to make myself decent," he sniffed. His dark hair was still sticking up untidily in spite of his apparent effort to make himself "decent."

Flora bit the inside of her cheek and turned away to finish making the tea. They moved into the front room. Flora picked up and wrapped the crochet blanket around herself, frowning a little at the cold fireplace. She got down on her knees to get a small fire going with what firewood was left in the basket.

"I wish you had your wand," she grumbled offhandedly to Regulus, "We'd have a good fire in seconds."

Regulus was only half listening and didn't bother responding. He'd pulled out an old newspaper stuffed down the side of the sofa cushion and was reading a headline about the Yorkshire Ripper's last victim, back in September. Flora soon had a fire going and sat close to it, shivering. She looked at Regulus.

"Are there any serial killers like that in the wizard world?" She asked after a moment.

Regulus lifted his eyes from the paper. "Probably."

"Probably?" She replied incredulously.

"Well, there's known killers like You-Know-Who and Greyback, but I wouldn't classify them as serial killers," he replied, being surprisingly forth-coming and conversational. "It's hard to catch a witch or wizard who commits murder with magic. There're all sorts of things you can use to avoid detection if you're clever. There's been one or two who've been caught, like mentally disturbed people."

"But I mean people like that," she pointed to the newspaper headline. "All the murders I've heard about from your world seem politically motivated. But do witches and wizards kill just because they want to?"

"There was one wizard, Norman Reynards, who went about killing witches with red hair."

"Just red-haired witches?" Flora blinked.

"Some wizards too, but mostly witches. It was when I was in my first year of Hogwarts. The girls with red hair were frantically dying it to black or brown."

"How did they catch him?"

"He was crazy. He attacked a woman in the middle of Diagon Alley and got himself captured by the authorities. Swiftly sent off to Azkaban."

"Was the woman alright?"

"Yes," he nodded.

Flora rested her chin on her knees, which were pulled up to her chest. The sound of the wolves had ceased, but she still felt uneasy, particularly now they were discussing serial killers. She sipped her tea. Regulus mirrored her, his expression neutral.

"Let's not talk about it anymore," she said, "Shall I put some music on?"

Regulus looked far from enthused by this idea. "The music you played at your birthday party?"

"No, we'll play my mam's music," Flora said, placing her tea aside and crawling across the floor to the boxes she kept her records in.

"Is that supposed to be any better?" He raised an eyebrow.

"What sort of music do you listen to?" She asked while she flipped through the singles. There were a lot of Beatles, The Kinks and 60s Motown in her mother's collection. Flora chose "Baby love" by The Supremes as Regulus answered her question in one short word.

"Classical."

"Like Beethoven and Mozart?"

"Classical wizard music," he clarified cooly.

"Does it sound much different?"

Regulus faltered at this. "Well, no… yes… I suppose. But I wouldn't really know."

"Don't you like anything else?"

"If you mean that rubbish my brother listens to, then no."

Flora smiled and shook her head. "You should be more open."

"I prefer to be closed."

"If you say so."

They both fell silent. Only the music, which was now at the instrumental part of the song, filled the silence between them.

"My mam loved this group," Flora said, turning back to the box to choose another song by The Supremes. Regulus said nothing, but his granite expression was again neutral.

Flora let the blanket drop from her shoulders slightly and swayed gently to the music with a small smile on her lips. She sang along under her breath, not looking at Regulus.

Something shifted in Regulus at that moment. As he watched her, he was struck dumb with the devastating, sudden realisation that he wanted to hold her. Her dressing gown had loosened, which Flora seemed unaware of, and hung partly open to reveal her nightie and the shadow of her nipples against the fabric. She was beautiful and it pained him to acknowledge it, though he knew deep down he'd been fighting the realisation for some time. Regulus shifted his gaze from her and frowned down at his cup of tea, stubbornly resuming his usual sullen mood and indifference. If he looked at her, he wasn't sure he would be able to ignore her.

She only moved and swayed for a short time, then stood studying the other vinyl singles for a while, deciding what to play next while the song continued to play. She seemed oblivious to Regulus.

"I think the wolves have gone," he said, clearing his throat. Flora was getting ready to put on a single by The Shirelles.

Neither of them wanted nor dared say the word 'werewolves.' Flora only nodded in response to his observation. She sat down by the fire, pulling the front of her dressing gown closed, and examined the picture on the vinyl sleeve as the song "Will You Love Me Tomorrow" began to play. Regulus was listening to these songs in spite of himself. The thrill and dread of what he was feeling for Flora had amplified in these last few days. It felt criminal to him, to feel such things for a muggle. Order must be imposed, he thought, must be reestablished before he got too close to the girl. He must distance himself at once and remain dignified, because he was so close to acting undignifed in this moment.

Yet he resisted his resolution; he didn't want to distance himself or knock her beneath him. He didn't want to be dignified. He had been dignified his whole life and it had made him miserable. Harbouring this secret, budding affection in his heart gave him a warm pleasure, even if it may never come to fruition, and even (or perhaps because) it was forbidden in his mind.

Flora fell asleep on the sofa that night, her head resting close to Regulus' leg. He didn't sleep. He kept guard, listening until daylight for the sound of howls, until he too finally fell asleep.