10 ~ A True Monster

Somewhere beyond the glass, the moon hung silent and pale, as if it already knew the parts of me I feared to name.

     I was still small and young. I did not know much about the wide world. It was the night when everything changed. I lay upon our wooden floor, in the entrance room, in pain, terrible pain, almost unbearable. Everything hurt and everywhere I looked there was blood.

Pain...misery...agony...

     I did not know why I had been bleeding, I only remembered that on a summer night I had run away from our house, which lay deep within the forest and hidden from unwanted eyes.     At that time in my life I loved to wander through the forest, simply to be myself. Back then I still could, be myself.     I ran to my favourite place: a great tree that stood upon a small rise. It was surrounded by other trees, yet none could compare to it. The great tree had no leaves, yet its branches split again and again until they were as thin as strands of hair.     Clothed in my nightdress, I walked barefoot to my place. The atmosphere was magical, supernatural, dark. Yet what happened afterwards was not magical, not magical at all, only dark. A breath of wind tickled my nose, and because of it my life changed. I looked up into the enchanting night sky and yet I was not alone.          The moon watched me.     It was full moon and suddenly I felt a stabbing pain beneath my skin. It forced me to my knees, then I screamed. It hurt so much. I could not stop it. My body cramped and it felt as if all my bones were breaking, until I felt myself slipping away piece by piece. The hellish agony did not cease. Slowly black spots clouded my vision until everything turned black.

Forgotten...

     I had no memory of what had happened afterwards, yet I could remember waking covered in blood in our entrance room, lying on the floor and gasping.     Before me my stepfather towered like a shadow. I heard his muttering and mumbling voice as if muffled, yet I could remember his words to this day: "You are an abomination! A spawn of hell! A demon, sent by the devil himself, and something like that I must have in my house. I did it only for her!", he shouted, then a blow followed.     It had not been the first blow; before that I had already learned what it meant to be beaten, though never so harshly. In that moment, however, I had deserved it.     The blow struck me unexpectedly. When I had realised it, the next followed, then another. It did not stop. Between the blows I saw that the second man of my mother was crying.     "What have you done? You monster! Cathrine, my dearest...", Cathrine was my mother's name, "What did she ever do to you?!"     Then he struck so hard that I lost consciousness as a result. The last thing I noticed before my head hit the floor was that all the blood was not mine, but my mother's.     When I awoke the next morning, I was in the forest, completely alone and filled with such bitter fear, until I met them:

My true family.

     That had happened two years ago, it must have. Beneath the tree I had transformed into a werewolf, for the first time.          Or?     What had come before?          I did not know.     I also did not know what had happened afterwards. Why could I not remember more? Why did I know so little? I had lived in that house, with my mother and her husband. What was his name? What did he look like?     What had I done afterwards?          Alone in the forest, with them?     At my place, beside the tree, with the small cave. There, what had been inside it? Some things I had loved as a child? No, it had been a shelter, my little house. Like a... treehouse. Only in the earth.          For children.     I had run back there. Then they had found me. The wolves, a pack that we had tamed and raised? But who had we been? My mother? Yet the wolves had always been there, like... dogs.     But what had I done during those two years?

"You survived, Phil", the voice in my head said, "you did what you had to do."

     I shook my head. My hands were pressed against my face.          Why were they wet?          Why was this all that I knew?     It felt as if I were incomplete. As if I were Phil, a strange being that had lived only a few years. Not more, not fourteen, even though I did not feel like a child. I was myself.     Only Phil.

"You are something special."

     "No...", I forced out. I hated that sentence, hated it when the voice reminded me of it inside my head.          "Phil-"     "No, I am not!", I spoke into my hands.          I felt two hands upon my shoulders. Why were they trembling? Or was I trembling?          "Miss Aquila?"     "She is dead...", I murmured, "because of me."          "Phil", Dumbledore tried again. By now he was kneeling beside me. His hands were the only support that held me in the here and now. He did not ask questions.     I had killed my mother. Murdered her like an animal. The fear of many werwolves was my reality.

I am a true monster.

     I did not know how long I sat crying in Dumbledore's office; yet when I breathed normally again, I ate the lemon drops from his desk. The old man had told me that I must place one upon my tongue until it had completely dissolved - for distraction. Yet it had worked.     Later Dumbledore spoke gently to me again.          "Phil, all this happened in your younger days. You were a child, do not blame yourself. The future will reveal more, yet for now you shall remain here for the time being. I am aware that you do not wish that, and I will not be able to keep you here forever, Phil. You will have to leave the castle every full moon, and what you do then I cannot influence. Yet I ask you to stay. So much has already happened in your short life and there is much to discover. Hogwarts teaches magic and you shall learn it. I will tell you everything about this school and help you, but for that I need your trust."     "How am I supposed to imagine that?", I asked, sounding unconvinced, "You tell me that my family name is known, that my father was like me. Everyone would be afraid if I stayed here. Humans are afraid of "people" like me", I explained myself and I was right. Whether that Lupin had told everyone at Hogwarts that he was a werewolf, I doubted it.

"They have no pride!", the voice said and I had to agree with it. I was a monster and could not hide it. My family name spoke for itself.

     When my gaze shifted to Dumbledore, I knew that I was right. Humans did not like me. Yet he held a different opinion: "What others think does not matter, Phil. You carry a tragic story behind you, yet I refuse to accept that you are a monster and therefore may not attend my school. Yes, the name Aquila is known, yet you would not be the only werewolf who has ever attended this school. Nor must every child of a werewolf become one as well. I can speak openly with you", his bright eyes looked at me, "here you can live a somewhat normal life. I repeat myself; the forest is no place for a young witch. And you may still use your mother's surname, Phil. No one needs to know that you are an Aquila."     At his last words I shook my head strongly.          I could not use my mother's name, not after what I had done to her. I had not deserved to carry her name. I was a monster and the name Aquila suited me just fine.     "No", I replied and Dumbledore nodded with a sigh. With this decision I would surely make his life as headmaster more difficult, yet I could not do otherwise. If I was not allowed to leave this place - if I had to play along in the game of humans - then I at least wished to remain true to myself.

Yes, even though I hated myself.

     "Very well, very well", said the old man, "a decision that I cannot forbid you."          "W-what", I began, "about the full moon?"     Dumbledore looked at me with pity, then began to tell me about a hut which he had specially reinforced so that a werewolf could not escape. This Lupin locked himself inside there every full moon.          "I-I cannot do that", I said, because I hated being locked away. My mother, she-

"She could not cope with you, Phil. A wolf belongs beneath the open sky."

     I agreed with the voice, wanted to shout it straight into Dumbledore's face, but how? He seemed to decide everything here, and I could not tell him that, no, I could not. He would despise me.          "I will make sure that two werewolves do not cross paths, Phil. Do not worry, please. You can always speak with Mister Lupin. Naturally you will address him by his first name: Remus. Though I am certain that you could even speak with his friends."      At the last part there was a strange sparkle in his eyes, as if he knew the answer to a riddle yet would reveal it to no one.     I could only nod and then listened as he told me about Hogwarts. Dumbledore also showed me magic. Astonished and fascinated at the same time, I had watched him closely. My eyes had fixed upon his hands, which he moved smoothly up and down through the air. In one hand he held his long wand, which somehow appeared threatening. A book had floated through the office and Dumbledore had explained to me that one could do much more than that.     "Actually you would already be entering the fourth year, Phil, yet of course that is not possible. I and all the other professors will take care of you, at least until your second summer holiday. You do not have a home and I would simply allow you to live in the castle, where I myself also stay. You will be able to learn much, though only with your own effort. I am not yet certain whether I should place you into a younger year, or whether you should study independently with me, so that in the future you may complete your education here. I will not trouble you with these questions, for they are ones I must answer myself."     The old wizard looked at me and I nodded. I myself did not wish to attend a strange school, I would rather spend my time with Dumbledore.

Even if he frightened me a little.

     "Good, then that is settled. Yet I also want you to have contact with others, Phil. There are many with whom you will get along. Contact with others will do you good. That is why we must place you into one of the houses of which I have told you."     When it came to my sorting, I grew nervous. The old, musty hat was placed upon my head and spoke, as it seemed to me, inside my thoughts:

Well, well, who do we have here? Ah, Aquila, that is a name I have not heard in ages. Mother, a Ravenclaw. Yes, she was a true Ravenclaw, a very well-read child. Indeed Ravenclaw would be possible, yet I see something else there. You are quite similar to your father, are you not? Surely you also have his fiery red hair? He was a proud lion, you must know, child, though I also wished to send him to Slytherin. Now I know what I shall do with you:

     "GRYFFINDOR!"     I staggered from the chair and looked at the hat strangely. Dumbledore placed it back upon the shelf with a laugh and I had to think about its words. I was supposed to resemble my father, and yet he had seemed to be a cruel man. Cruel, though I remembered him differently.     "Congratulations, the house of the proud lions, I should have known," Dumbledore said and smiled at me. He returned to the desk. "Now, I shall send someone to guide you to your common room. Naturally we shall meet again tomorrow evening. We still have much to discuss, Phil."

     Later another person appeared and entered the office.          "Ah, Miss Evans, how good to see you, despite the late hour!" Dumbledore spoke. It was already dark outside and I studied the girl. She had red hair, which at the moment appeared rather brown, and she smiled at me kindly.     "This is Philomela Aquila, Miss Evans. She is new at Hogwarts, though she may tell you that herself, although I believe you have already heard of it. I called you because I believe that you will be good company for Miss Aquila. She will be placed in Gryffindor and in your dormitory there appears to be a free bed?"          "That is correct, Professor," the girl replied and did not show the slightest reaction to my name. That did not mean I trusted her.     "Good, then off you go, the two of you!"          I rose from the chair, walked towards the girl and noticed that she wore a black robe. Around her neck was a red and gold tie and I was taller than she was. Together we left the office and before we had even stepped into the corridor, she spoke: "You can call me Lily, by the way."          Her green eyes met mine, and in response I said briefly: "Phil."     "Alright then, Phil," she said cheerfully and we turned into another corridor, "we are heading to the common room now, where we spend our free time. Why did you only come to Hogwarts now? Were you taught at home? I am Muggle-born, you should know. I saw you two weeks ago, walking through Hogwarts. Are you perhaps Muggle-born as well?"     We reached the moving staircases and climbed upwards. I did not know how to answer her questions, and so I remained silent.      My silence seemed to disappoint Lily somewhat, yet she also seemed to notice that I felt uncomfortable. I had wrapped my arms protectively around myself and looked towards the paintings. My upper body was wrapped inside the thick dark-blue jumper, yet I was still cold.     I did not wish to be unfriendly, however everything became too much. An overwhelming amount of information in a single day had reached me, and I would have to think about it all. Lily seemed kind to me, yet with the other Gryffindors it might turn out differently.

"Observe.""Think before you act, Phil."

     We climbed another staircase and already I did not know how I was supposed to find my way back to Dumbledore the following evening. Someone would have to show me the path.     We stopped before a painting that displayed a fat lady. Lily spoke towards the large painting: "Dragon scale.", and the portrait swung aside. I, however, jumped a step backwards. When Lily looked at me reassuringly, I remembered that the painting had not harmed me.     "That was the password, Phil, remember it well, but be careful, for the Fat Lady can talk and talk for hours without ever pausing," Lily's voice sounded weary, as if she spoke from experience.     I nodded in response, after which she stepped through the entrance that the portrait had revealed.          I followed.     A moment later we stood within a large room decorated in red and gold. The sight took my breath away. I stared in wonder and noticed Lily beside me grinning.           At once I felt embarrassed.We walked towards a staircase, yet before that I noticed those boys again, who sat upon several sofas. All four stared towards us and I recognised that Lupin among them, who was like me.      Lily seemed to notice both my gaze and that of the boys and sighed beside me: "Please, ignore them. They are annoying."     So we walked past them, while every pair of eyes followed me, and afterwards we climbed a spiral staircase upwards.      Along one side doors kept appearing in my view. On the third floor Lily stopped. She opened the door and inside I discovered a round room with five beds. Everything was decorated in red and gold. In the middle stood a stove.     At once I noticed three other girls who looked at us curiously. Two of them had brown hair, one of them darker, almost black. It was straight and chin-length. The other girl had brown curls, light brown skin and dark brown eyes. The girl with the short hair had pale skin and light brown eyes. The third girl had black hair, pale skin and blue eyes, which were the first pair of eyes to notice us.      The three girls sat together on one bed, yet immediately came towards us.

"Stay calm, you can do this, Phil."

     "Oh, hey!", the girl with the curly hair greeted me, and she was a little taller than I was, "I'm Dorcas Meadowes and these are Alice Fortescue and Mary Macdonald." She first pointed to the girl with the short hair, then to the dark-haired one.          "They call me Mare," the one with the black hair replied, "you're the girl everyone at Hogwarts is talking about. You frightened quite a few, but what is your name?"     Lily answered when I did not: "Philomela Aquila, but she introduced herself as Phil."          Now two of the four girls gave the reaction I had expected.     "Aquila?!", Alice asked in shock.     "The Aquila?", Dorcas asked then, "we are talking about Ethan J. Aquila?"     "I don't even know who we are talking about!", Lily complained.     "Neither do I," Mare added.     "The accomplice of Fenrir Greyback, you two really know nothing."     "The werewolf who disappeared?", Alice tried to help the others remember, until they realised again that I was still standing there.     "Then that means you're a werew-", Dorcas began, but Lily interrupted sharply: "Dorcas!"     "What? I'm only curious!", she defended herself, yet still glanced towards me.          "Yes, I am."     Every face fell silent, everything became quiet.

I probably should not have said that...

     "Wow...", came Dorcas's brilliant reply after a few seconds of silence and she immediately received a shove from Lily between her ribs.          "Dumbledore always knows what he is doing. Phil is a normal person, even if she is a werewolf," Lily said and gave me a smile, which confused me.     "True, it is not full moon every day. But don't go around telling everyone just like that, Phil, that you are a werewolf!", Dorcas laughed in a scolding tone and held out her hand to me. Her gaze fell upon the scar on my cheek, yet she forced herself not to stare.          She did not succeed.     Still, I took her hand hesitantly, even though it felt strange, since I had never had contact with others my age. In general, far too little contact with people. There had only been my mother and her husband.     Even so, Alice and Mare also held out their hands to me. Alice somewhat cautiously and she seemed to know quite a lot about my father.     "Phil, come, sit with us," Lily said and the others looked at me curiously. I did not know what to do, but then sat down beside Lily on one of the beds. The two girls began explaining my family name to the clueless Mare, which made Lily cast them a warning glance.     "That is rude, Phil is still here!"          "It's alright," I said quietly, "I only know what Dumbledore has told me."     "What do you mean?", Dorcas looked at me strangely.          "Until two weeks ago I had no idea that magic even existed," I admitted and that sentence left them more speechless than the fact that I was a werewolf.

Yes, this school is strange.People should hate me, yet these girls were interested in me, although Alice at least remained cautious.

     That I had joined the conversation with that sentence was obvious. That meant I had to tell them about myself. Only a little, and I did not mention my pack of wolves, nor that I had killed my mother, nor that there was another werewolf at Hogwarts.      I only told them that I had grown up in the forest and had come here during the last full moon, and that I had been taken to the hospital wing so that I could rest. There I had had a bad dream, which had caused me to panic.     Dumbledore had told me that I should tell the girls that my mother had died last year, that I had been placed in an orphanage until a witch had brought me to Hogwarts, since my mother had never told me about Hogwarts.     I also explained to them that at first I would not attend lessons, and Lily immediately offered to study the material from the lower years with me every weekend.     I learned that Muggle-born students had also known nothing about magic as children. Because of that Lily seemed to understand my situation a little. Although her fourth year would already be over in less than half a year, the red-haired girl wanted to help me.     For a while I spoke with the girls, but shortly afterwards went to sleep.

     I lay in bed while the voices of the girls faded away. Above me stretched the dark ceiling, as if it were a second sky. Somewhere outside the moon must have been standing.      I pulled the blanket tighter around myself and thought about how he would soon look at me again.