Belle
1 week passes. Then another week. I hadn’t heard from my mum since October and it was now early December. The excitement of reuniting with her was short-lived. Even after my encounter in the library with Remus, I was able to maintain my good spirits for a few more weeks. Now that I hadn’t heard from her in more than a month, my brain was occupied by a nearly constant fog and my chest ached. The uncomfortable combination makes me feel vulnerable but I do my best to remain normal. Initially, it’s a struggle but by December it’s almost impossible.
I walk slowly to Defense Against the Dark Arts, clutching the book containing the first note my mother sent. I’ve read and re-read it unable to stop analyzing their words or the encounter I had. I try to put myself in her shoes and imagine what could possibly keep me away from my theoretical daughter for 7 years. Kidnapping, Death, or– Merlin forbid– Apathy? I don’t have a daughter but I imagine that I would try as hard as possible to return to her. The love a mother has for their children is meant to be a strong love. At least, that’s what I’ve heard about motherhood. If I believe that apathy is out of the question, then the only logical conclusion is that my mother was unable to reach me. And the natural following question, What has changed recently to allow her the freedom to seek me out?
I take my seat in DADA, and our Professor passes back exams from the class before. I peer at the E at the top of the exam and flip it over on my desk. I have had a hard time studying since the fog crept into my head. I have tried the library a few times but I find myself distracted by what happened behind the bookshelves. I left the library after Remus feeling astonished but not at the way he acted but by the way I responded. I can still remember the way my heartbeat pounded in my chest and my legs went limp in submission. He completely dominated me three times now first my mind then my body. There must be something wrong with me because lately, all I can think about is how to recreate that feeling. He left me breathless and for some stupid reason, I still haven’t caught my breath. I always respected Remus but since the start of term that respect has waned to anger, fear, and most recently, paranoia.
I’ve been hyperaware of everyone in my immediate vicinity and I often find myself checking over my shoulder to be sure I’m not being followed or potentially cornered. During mealtimes, I try to act normal but Remus usually joins us and while he outwardly projects an easy-going and laid-back demeanor, I can tell that he is attuned to me. It’s a strange feeling to know someone is watching your every move. It creeps up your spine and squeezes your chest tightly. This is how I know that James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter have entered the classroom. I check the time, precisely 11 a.m. They take their usual seats behind me. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristle so I tug at my necklace and force my focus to our Professor.
“This exam average was a bit lower than normal. I know you’re all excited for Christmas but please remember that this class is more important than a few days of celebration,” our woefully gloomy Professor drones.
I roll my eyes because he’s constantly making little comments like this. I find it so sad that someone so brilliant could be angry and alone. I suppose sometimes that’s the price that being an ex-auror can cost. I wonder if he had parents or loved ones. Perhaps he used to gather around a glittering tree, sang carols, and exchange wrapped gifts while clutching a warm beverage. I watch him as he reads off correct answers to our exam he just handed back. His lifeless eyes scan back and forth on the key and I feel my heart tug briefly because I recognize the look. It’s the look my aunt and I exchange on Christmas Day when we allow ourselves to miss my parents. We gather at the gallery wall and hold each other for a moment before someone calls us back for something. James and I will be staying at Hogwarts this year so I give myself a moment to proactively miss my aunt and uncle.
Our Professor moves back behind his desk to set the key down. He takes a deep breath and then sighs, “Our next unit will be on Beasts with a MOM classification of XXXXX and XXXX. These beasts are either known wizard killers or require intimate knowledge to interact with. It is imperative that you know how to interact with these beasts should you encounter them. Currently, the Ministry is most concerned about the werewolf population in Europe so they have requested me to assign you all 24 inches discussing how to spot a werewolf, give at least 4 examples contrasting what you should or shouldn’t do when you encounter them, and give 5 reasons why werewolves today are classified as XXXXX, known wizard killers, and should be kept far away from wizardkind.”
I write down the requirements but I trail off toward the end. I scrunch my brows together in confusion and tentatively raise my hand. He waves a nonchalant hand my way to allow my question.
“Sir, I don’t believe that werewolves are dangerous while they’re unchanged. Why would they need to be kept away from us? Furthermore, werewolves make up a small portion of that classification ‘wizardkind’ as any Muggle bitten by a werewolf succumbs to the affliction within hours. Surely, the Ministry wouldn’t imply that just because there exists some barbaric werewolves that all of them are just as barbaric? That’s like saying all wizards must be just as bad as dark wizards.”
Professor ‘dead-eyes’ comes back to life while I ask my questions and his dark eyes contort in rage and something else I cannot identify. He clenches his fist and speaks coldly,
“Ms. Clarke you may return 36 inches and fill the last 12 inches with specific instances of werewolf attacks on wizards. You will also see me after class to receive a slip to access Identifying Magical Injuries from the Restricted Section so you may include photos with your project.”
I gape at him, having never seen him so passionately angry in my life. I feel my face heat with embarrassment but also anger. My Aunt and Uncle have spoken to James and I about how some wizards think differently than we do and are less tolerant but until this moment I have never truly experienced it firsthand. I turn to my cousin looking for support and I find his face is also red and his fists are clenched. Sirius also looks pissed and I’m briefly worried that they’ll do something stupid when I catch Remus’s bewildered gaze. Remus and I have been making plenty of eye contact lately despite my efforts to avoid his stalking. However, the look in his eyes now is different. It’s innocent and slightly alarmed. He looks about 11 years old. I whip my head around as I hear our Professor approach my desk.
“Have I made myself clear?” He glares down at me. I still search his eyes for even a sliver of the humanity I imagined that he once had but find none. I hear a chair scoot back and footsteps leaving the classroom. I know that at least James has just left and I summon confidence I do not feel as I say,
“I will not be completing this assignment as given. It is inappropriate and WRONG.” I pack my bag as I break eye contact. “You may give me a zero.”
I feel my peers staring at me as I follow James and Sirius out of the classroom. I catch Remus’s confused expression as I pass his desk and turn my gaze away when I realize that he’s not following us out. Of course, Mr. Top of the Class wouldn’t leave just like Lily and Peter opt to stay. I shouldn’t be so angry but I am. My eyes burn with tears as I exit the room and find James and Sirius waiting for me. I catch one blurry glimpse of them with their arms folded before I burst into tears. James pulls me close and I cry into his shirt as Sirius rubs my back. All of my anger, frustration, and embarrassment drains from my veins as I cry. But I also cry for another reason because I miss my mum so much and for some reason, it seems she doesn’t miss me as much. When I pull away James smiles down at me, “Better?”
Even though everything is not better, not even a little. I nod and we return to the common room.
***
I’m sitting next to James during dinner, pushing around my potatoes and green beans when Lily waves her hand in front of my face. I startle and almost lose my grip on my fork. I fumble with it and it clatters loudly onto my plate. I wipe up the mess and turn to Lily with a ‘What do you want?’ look.
She raises her hands in surrender and says, “I was just saying how badass you were in class today.” She glances over at Rose for confirmation. Rose nods her head but I think she can tell that I don’t really want to talk about it.
“Thanks, it was really fun having to lecture our biggot of a Professor.” I shoot the bastard a glare as he savagely attacks a leg of poultry. Lily cuts a piece of her meat in a posh comparison to the disgusting show our Professor is putting on at the head table. She stabs the chicken and raises it to her mouth as she says, “Well someone should have, it’s not right what he said or assigned.”
“I didn’t hear you protesting,” I say, harsher than I meant to. She furrows her brow but defends herself anyways.
“It's just an assignment, I’m not going to take it to heart.” She speaks softly but matter-of-factly as if I had accused her of being ignorant. I’m emotionally exhausted after this morning so as I stand up to leave, I say, “That’s not the point and you know that Lils.”
I turn to James, “I’m going for a walk. See you later.” He squeezes my hand and lets me go. I’m so in my head that I don’t even make eye contact with the person that I shoulder-check at the entrance to the Hall. I toss back a grumbled apology and continue outside.
I stop when I reach the fountain I peer down at my reflection and wonder what is wrong with me. What made my mum want to leave and not come back. I sit on the edge of the stone and run my hands through the blue water. Then shake off the lingering water droplets and watch as the water returns to normal. It’s only then that I notice a person standing behind me.
Remus’s hair is tousled and his hands are stuffed into his pockets. When he looks at me it is not with his usual hardened stare. His gaze is softer but still guarded. He motions to the empty stone next to me and I nod and say,
“It’s not like you would listen to me even if I asked you to leave.” He chuckles and without thinking I smile.
My heart starts to pound and I swell with pride having just managed to make him laugh. He turns to look at our reflections. We into the water for a bit before he says, “You shouldn’t have argued with Professor Perdit.”
I’m surprised by his words and I stare at his reflection. “Of course, I should’ve. It was the right thing to do.” I watch as his reflection turns to face me. I keep my gaze locked on the reflection because it seems less threatening, less material, less likely to chew me up and spit me out.
“How could you even say those things? After what happened..” He trails off and only then does my head shoot up to face him. My shoulders are stiff and my father’s bloodied, meaty, face flashes in front of my eyes. I feel the beginning of tears burning against the cold air so I grip my thighs to anchor myself to reality. I can see in his curious eyes that he knows, that James must’ve told him and all of his friends. A tear rolls down my face and a smile plays on his features. Before I can stop him, he reaches out to capture the tear and lets it melt into his warm hand. He raises his eyebrows and I remember that he was waiting for my answer. I huff and say,
“I don’t really remember what happened. But I don’t blame the person who did it. I forgave them a long time ago. If it were me I know that I would punish myself everyday more than anyone else could. But let’s just say for argument sake that they don’t remember or feel bad; I just don’t really see the point carrying a grudge around. My dad wouldn’t want me to live with vengeance rotting in my heart.”
Remus looked down and touched his fingertips to the water and we watch as the water ripples in 5 imperfect rings that bleeds into one. I take the moment to really look at him. His face wear a blank expression. His nose and cheeks are pink from the cold and they are decorated with scars and I wonder, like I always do, who or what caused them. His lips, also red from the cold, are slightly parted and I can see his breathe coming evenly. I sniff, feeling my runny nose start up again. The combination of crying and the cold has provided a near constant stream of tears and snot. Remus unwraps the Gryffindor red scarf from around his neck and wraps it around me.
“You should learn to pick your battles. Jumping to defend werewolves against a society that only remembers Greyback is a losing battle.” I meet his eyes and they look tired. So I muster a smile and pray it doesn’t read as a grimace.
“Thanks Remus, but fair warning I have a hard time holding my tongue, just in general, and especially when faced with injustice.” He rolls his eyes at me but he looks more amused than irritated.
“Isabella Clarke, champion of misunderstood werewolves.” He muses and let myself smile and ease into the conversation. Our eyes meet and my face warms under his smoldering gaze. My brain assaults me with memories of his breath on my neck, his fingers gripping my thighs, and the dirty words he whispered at me in the library. I am suddenly aware of the ever present fog clearing and I know that I’m about to make a huge mistake. My eyes flicker down to lips still slightly parted before I am once again assaulted by an aggressive owl with a small scrap of parchment in its claws.
Remus rips the bird off of me and unties the scroll. He starts to unroll it and I make a grab for it.
“Hey! That’s mine!” I grab at it again as he stands to his full height. He finishes reading it and hands it back to me. He looks back at me and I know that whatever was between us a moment ago is gone. I snatch the scroll from his hands and read it. It’s my mum and she wants to meet again in the same place. Tomorrow night. Only this time I won’t be going alone and I don’t even try to fight it.
Remus takes a few steps toward the castle and says, “C’mon, we’re going back inside.” I stand and follow a few paces behind his all the way back to the common room. Everyone is gathered around the fire but I’m so emotionally exhausted that I excuse myself to bed early and fall asleep wrapped in Remus’s scarf.