Chapter 1
Shuichi liked dogs.
He liked that they were loyal yet goofy, and attuned to their owners. As a general rule of thumb, he made a point to pet any that willingly approached him.
On the contrary: Shuichi didn’t like wolves.
He didn’t like their deadly fangs, mouths flicking slobber from their gnashing jaws. He didn’t like the pain of their inflicted wounds, or the fact that a bite saddled Shuichi with a curse for all eternity.
…Okay, so maybe it wasn’t wolves Shuichi disliked.
However, saying he disliked werewolves would imply self hatred, and Shuichi hated himself for different reasons.
So maybe saying he disliked wolves as a whole was some sort of denial.
“What are you talking about?!” Kaito gasped. “Wolves are great!”
“I’m not saying you can’t like them, Kaito.” Shuichi assured, ducking his head. “I just don’t.”
Kaito shook his head in disbelief, and Shuichi offered a sheepish smile.
“This is my stop,” Shuichi gestured to the closed entrance to the Ravenclaw dormitories. “See you later?”
“Yeah, yeah.” The Gryffindor waved a hand. “Have fun with your know-it-alls.”
Shuichi huffed in half-hearted annoyance as his friend descended the steps.
There was a moment of silence before Shuichi subtly deflated. This next task would not be fun for him, but he needed to do it monthly.
Shuichi turned away from the wall of knitted stone bricks, padding down the steps he came.
One, two, three, four… Shuichi carefully counted each as he went.
Twelve.
Shuichi halted, planting both feet on the ledge of dusty gray. He turned toward the center of the spiral steps, then got out his wand.
Shuichi tapped four times on the cobbled stone. In response, it flittered out of his way, crackling against the edges of other rocks.
There was no cure for Shuichi’s condition. Not unless death counted (to be fair, some people did actually believe that was a better alternative).
No, Shuichi knew quite well what he had was chronic and permanent. Shuichi would always inevitably turn into a savage beast every month on the full moon. Nothing could stop that.
However, there was a way to mediate the damage he caused. An elixir containing immensely rare ingredients: the Wolfsbane Potion.
It wouldn’t stop the transformation, or make it less painful. It would, however, help him keep his mind. Otherwise, Shuichi would simply be a monster on a rampage with no control over his actions.
Small mercies.
Shuichi walked into the round, secret room. He turned to his nook, opening his hand to move the rock aside-
Shuichi stopped, his breath catching.
The stone was askew.
It didn’t mean anything. Shuichi assured himself as such. Maybe he just left it like that.
(Shuichi, regardless of this claim, moved the stone more frantically than necessary.)
Behind it, there should’ve been a polished rowanwood box, the inside lined with silk. It should’ve contained multiple thin glass vials of cobalt blue fluid. It would taste repulsive, but sugar negated the effect.
…Instead, Shuichi found chilling emptiness.
Shuichi’s heart started to race, the world becoming unsteady.
Who took it? Why? Did…did someone know?
Shuichi desperately clawed through his memories to try and recognize if anyone would have reason to suspect.
Korekiyo, maybe? He knew more of wizards and afflictions than anyone, and they shared a dormitory. Still, Shuichi didn’t talk to him that much, and he didn’t seem any different last time they spoke.
Kaede? He loved her to death, but she could be pretty nosy when she wanted to be. But if she had noticed something was off, she was usually the type to be up front about it.
…Did a teacher know? Did they take his medicine, daring Shuichi to come clean?
Shuichi’s breathing ran ragged. No, no, no, no…
The full moon was in a week. That wasn’t enough time for Shuichi to mail his uncle, have his uncle manage to collect the rare ingredients, carefully concoct the potion, and deliver it to him in person so nobody saw it come in with his owl.
Shuichi needed that potion. He couldn’t risk going full feral here. He’d get caught, or worse: hurt someone.
At least wolves weren’t destructively aggressive. Werewolves were.
Even if Shuichi somehow managed to trap himself somewhere he wouldn’t hurt anyone, Wolf-Shuichi would hurt himself out of frustration. How would he explain that?
Last time Shuichi tried something like that, Wolf-Shuichi chewed up his front leg from all the pent-up frustration, and kept using his own head as an unsuccessful battering ram. Shuichi got a concussion and an unusable wrist for the following months.
It wasn’t safe for anybody if Shuichi transformed without that potion!
Shuichi sat on the stone floor, bringing his knees to his chest as he tried to control his breathing.
Shuichi had been careful.
He hid it outside the dormitory, and only ever came to take seven vials for the week of the full moon on that week, when he’d need it. He played dumb to all secret passages to plant the idea he’d have no connection to this one. He used a secret room, and hid it further by using a displaced stone inside the secret room.
And now, all of that was down the drain. Shuichi didn’t have the materials to make another, and that box was supposed to last him the school year.
What now?
Shuichi raked his hands through his hair. There was no way he could safely spend the full moon as he normally did: curled in a fluffy ball under a table in the Room of Requirement. No, not this month. Not without the mind to do so.
Shuichi didn’t even want to risk being on campus…
Maybe he could have the Room of Requirement trap him, but it was too much of a gamble. He could break free and hurt someone; even if he didn’t, Wolf-Shuichi would not like being trapped. He’d hurt himself — and ultimately Shuichi — in his frustration.
So what choice did Shuichi have? The Forbidden Forest, maybe?
Oh, but Wolf-Shuichi could still attack Hogwarts! While werewolves viciously attacked anything that moved, they always targeted people above all else. Even if Wolf-Shuichi didn’t manage to make it inside, he could attack the groundskeeper or one of the magic creatures in the stables.
There’d be a hunt for the violent beast in seconds. Shuichi would never be safe.
Shuichi released a pathetic sound, something like a strangled breath crossed with a whimper.
There had to be something he could do.
Some pathetic, childish part of Shuichi just begged him to ask for help. Tell an adult, confide in his friends.
But Shuichi knew better.
See, Shuichi wasn’t bitten by a stranger. Shuichi was accidentally bitten by his uncle.
Until that day, his uncle hadn’t even considered telling him. It was only after that unfortunate accident that his uncle did, exposing the nature of their newly shared curse.
Of all the advice he received from the fellow werewolf, one was always pounded over his head with almost frantic desperation:
Never tell anyone.
People would stop seeing Shuichi as a person the moment they knew. He would just be seen as the monster he was once a month, and never again the person he happened to be the rest of the time.
“Never forget that this isn’t your fault,” his uncle always said, something heavily sorrowful in his gaze. “You’re a victim. So am I. It’s just that nobody will ever treat us like ones, so we can’t say anything.”
It was a heartbreaking thing to tell an eight-year-old. However, it was necessary.
Shuichi would never tell anyone about his affliction. He trusted them, loved them, but…
…Well actually, that summed up his reason not to pretty well.
He didn’t want them to stop loving or trusting him, or for him to lose the ability to do so in return.
No, this was Shuichi’s burden. He’d handle it alone.
Shuichi sighed, relieved at least that he’d stopped hyperventilating. However, that still left an awful clarity on just how screwed he was.
Shuichi couldn’t be in the dorms, couldn’t be in a classroom, and probably couldn’t be anywhere near school grounds. Secret passages were a maybe, but it was unlikely he wouldn’t be found out with how destructive and loud Wolf-Shuichi got.
Then, there was the matter of keeping himself safe too. Shuichi couldn’t just lock himself up somewhere — getting his head used as a battering ram did not end well for his overall health.
Don’t get Shuichi wrong: he would gladly sacrifice his own wellbeing for his friends’ safety. However, it wasn’t that simple.
Shuichi wasn’t a huge fan of Wolf-Shuichi managing to cripple them both on accident just because he was restless.
Shuichi also couldn’t very well show up to class with an injury and not get questions. Shuichi would be willing to take necessary pain, not get himself outed just because he was reckless.
His uncle would be devastated, and Shuichi loved him too much to put him through that.
Shuichi had to be smart about this. Find a way to keep himself and everyone around him safe.
But how?
Could he tie himself up…? Wolf-Shuichi was scarily strong, and Shuichi would have to accommodate for the size difference and limb placement. Doable, but risky.
So far, Shuichi had two options: cage and likely restrain himself in the Room of Requirement, or get as far as he could into the Forbidden Forest (without being killed by anything in the process) and transform among the trees.
Both had pros and cons. Both were completely undesirable.
But Shuichi didn’t have other suitable alternatives.
He’d keep thinking of options, but for now those were the best ones he had to work with.
Hopefully he’d figure it out.
~•~
Shuichi got lucky with his condition, all things considered. When he was turned, he at least had someone around with experience to help him.
With help from the start, Shuichi knew more about his own condition than most started with.
For example, werewolves grew sickly on the week of the full moon. His uncle theorized it was because energy was being redirected and stored for the transformation, leaving the body frail.
This week was no exception.
Shuichi sighed, staring at his sullen face in the mirror. For the start of the week, his pitiful condition was worse than usual.
His skin had already developed an unhealthy pallor, and his joints ached where they bent. His heightened senses gave him a consistent, unrelenting headache that only got worse in loud or bright rooms.
As the week progressed, Shuichi would look and feel worse. This was only the first day.
At the end of a full-moon week, his skin was usually tight to bony limbs, muscles utterly sore, eyes dull and sunken in. It always made Kirumi worry as soon as he showed even the vague signs, so Shuichi would be taking measures to avoid her.
The fact he was already pale and sore wasn’t a good omen.
“It’s worse if you’re stressed,” Shuichi’s uncle once told him. “Anxiety takes energy, and on the week of the full moon you already have so little. It’s a bad combo.”
Looks like he was right. Fantastic.
Shuichi sighed miserably, cupping some cold water and splashing it in his face. It stung a little, briefly bringing color to his face that would quickly fade.
Shuichi, at least, had a new plan in the making.
It wouldn’t be safe for a feral beast to roam the campus. There was no way to stop the transformation, but…
…perhaps there was a way to keep Shuichi from roaming around in the first place.
Sleeping potions.
If Shuichi stayed asleep for the entirety of the full moon, he couldn’t cause any damage. He’d still transform, yes, but an unconscious creature was about as harmless as a nonexistent one.
Shuichi in human form wouldn’t need much to get knocked out. However, his more monstrous alter ego would need a lot. Shuichi has been doing the math between classes, and it needed to be potent for something with that size and magical nature.
The trouble Shuichi was having was what would happen when the full moon was over. There was a very real chance the lingering potion in his system could send Shuichi into a coma, or even kill him.
Every medicine could be deadly in excess amounts. And yet, medicine often doesn’t work if it's too little.
A balance was necessary, and Shuichi needed to figure it out before Sunday.
(If only his body would stop deteriorating so rapidly in the meantime. It was giving him concerned looks.)
Shuichi left the bathroom, padding his way to the mess hall. One more thing to do before Shuichi could collapse into bed.
(Alas, that was just a lie he was telling himself. He knew full well he needed to do some more calculations on the Sleeping Potion before he dared rest his eyes.
A dreamless night of nagging worry would await him if he didn’t.)
Shuichi moved through the winding corridors with muscle memory as his guide, trusting the sore joints to carry him to his destination.
Maybe they’d have ham. Or pork chops. Both sounded pretty good to him at the moment.
(For some reason, Shuichi always craved pork on the week of the full moon, along with salty and meaty foods. It was a weird thing he has noticed over the years, but his uncle has never brought it up.)
Shuichi was doing just fine until a wooly black mass of fur barreled into him.
Shuichi released a yelp, skittering across the stone with a heavy weight pinning him to the ground. Shuichi’s eyes opened to ones arguably more surprised than his.
“Hi.” Shuichu said after a beat to the large, shaggy canine pinning his chest to the ground.
That got it moving. Immediately, the dog leaped off him, its nails clicking on the stone floor.
“I’m not who you were looking for, huh?” Shuichi asked sheepishly, sitting up to face the decidedly apologetic-looking animal.
The dog tilted its head, ears pricked. It looked assessing, almost confused.
“Are you lost?” Shuichi asked as he stood to his feet and dusted off his clothes, despite knowing he’d receive no answer.
The dog walked forward slowly, sniffing the drapey edge of Shuichi’s school-issued cloak. Shuichi furrowed his brow and smiled weakly, bemused.
Shuichi gingerly presented a hand, and the dog sniffed it just as thoroughly. One would think Shuichi was covered in cat hair or something.
“Weird…” Shuichi muttered, more to himself than anything.
He lowered and bent down a little, running his fingers through the thick fur of the dog’s ruff.
Shuichi just couldn’t help himself. He liked dogs. So of course, he had to pet it.
“I wish I became a dog instead.” Shuichi muttered, the dog’s ears pricking curiously.
Dogs only bite people if it was someone else’s fault. Werewolves did it because they couldn’t control themselves.
Shuichi’s carnage could only be faulted to him.
“I better get going.” Shuichi lamented, giving the dog’s ears a final scratch. “Or Kaede will worry about me. I hope you find who you’re looking for; someone’s probably worried about you.”
Shuichi walked away, the dog watching him go.
~•~
Kokichi was a Slytherin. Thus, his entire House had beef with Gryffindor.
It was a good thing Kokichi had beef with his House too.
See, being a muggle-born in Slytherin held some stigma. Apparently, snakes are super uptight about this whole blood-purity stuff.
It had gotten a lot better over his years here, but the ‘warm welcome’ he received into his House was far from forgotten.
So Kokichi liked to actively hang out with upperclassmen George and Fred Weasley — both of which happened to be Gryffindors.
Ah, pettiness was very fun.
“So, what do you think it is?” Kokichi asked, swirling the liquid absently with its vial.
“No idea,” Fred piped up, peering over Kokichi’s left shoulder. It was easy, seeing as the ginger twins were much taller.
“Where’d you even find those?” George asked, peeking over Kokichi’s right.
“Even if I told you, would you believe me?” Kokichi asked coyly, turning to actually face his partners in various harmless crimes.
“Fair,” George shrugged.
“Probably not,” agreed Fred.
“Whatever it is, it’s pretty.” Kokichi hummed. His eyes lit up. “Maybe it’s drugs!”
Whatever Kokichi had found, it was definitely supposed be secret.
Why else would someone go so far to hide that rowanwood box, complete with silk-protected vials of sapphire blue liquid?
Whoever do you belong to? Kokichi though curiously, watching the fluid inside finally settle. And why did they go so far to hide you?
Kokichi was going to find out. He had a tendency to never let things go.