fifteen

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The sun was setting idly outside of the castle, the mountains surrounding the grounds illuminated by rays of orange and pink. It was dinner time at Hogwarts, but Wren Winslow was huddled into the corner of the sofa in the Gryffindor common room, blind to the beauty of the sunset outside.

Her frame was wrapped up in the soft knit of the blanket that Milo's mother had crocheted for her, the light from the fire flickering against her freckled skin and reflecting ominously in the tears rolling down her plump cheeks. Multiple envelopes lay strewn on the floor before her, each one ripped open with more panic than the last.

An inked piece of parchment lay atop her knees, clutched in her hands as she read the words neatly written on it.

My Dearest Wren,

Severus tells me that you are excelling in potions! "Just like her mother." He had said.

I never thought I could be any more proud of you than I already was, but every time Severus tells me about you I feel my heart swell to twice the size.

I wish I could tell you in person how proud you make me, Wren, but I guess for now these letters will have to do.

Keep sparkling, my chick.

Mum x

Wren threw the paper onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, picking up another letter from the cushion beside her. She tore the envelope open, carelessly throwing it to the floor as she carefully unfolded the next of her mother's letters.

She noticed how her handwriting was slowly becoming more illegible.

Wren,

Sev has told me that you and your friend went to watch the Quidditch World Cup this weekend. I heard it was good. I hope you enjoyed it.

I tried to watch it on the television here in the hospital, but the signal isn't very good. I think I may have seen you in the crowd for a moment.

I'm glad you have Milo, he seems nice. Severus tells me you are inseparable, just like how me and your auntie Mel were when we were younger.

A nurse gave me this new yoghurt yesterday, strawberry I think it was. It was yummy! I think you would like strawberry.

Lots of love,

Mum x

The tears rolling down Wren's cheeks were falling fast, as she tried to hold back her sobs. The more she read, the more incoherent the letters got. She remembered her mother to be extremely well spoken - a smart woman who favoured proper grammar and diction. To see her thoughts dwindle to nothing more than a few scribbled and misspelt words, was quite possibly even more painful than her mother holding Wren down while her father cursed her.

The girl recalled Snape's words, 'Your father put a blood curse on her.' She wondered how much longer her mother had left, and even found herself, once again, listing all the ways to cure a blood curse. Though each time she thought she may be onto something, of course it always ended back with Thomas.

The only way to cure a blood curse was with the person who cast it and, in this case, that person was locked behind bars in Azkaban.

Wren was finding it harder to read her mother's letters through the haze of tears, as she picked up the final envelope. It was dated a month ago. She was on her feet before she could even rip open the paper, not quite knowing where her feet were taking her before she arrived at the Great Hall, soft hands frantically wiping the tears from her face.

She found Milo sitting at the Gryffindor table, flirting shamelessly with Percy Weasly over dinner. He had what seemed to be shredded chicken on his plate, with some chips and a small side salad. He looked up at Wren with a mouth full of food.

"Want to go for a walk?" She asked. Milo went to protest, looking at his plate full of food in hungry despair, but he could tell that Wren was upset, her eyes bloodshot and lips plump. He gave Percy a small wave goodbye, before looping his arm through Wren's.

It was frosty outside, the evening air ice cold to the touch. Wren hadn't prepared herself for the bitter bite of the winter, shivering as her and Milo strolled along with their arms intertwined.

"Do you think he likes me?" Milo asked, his voice higher in pitch than usual.

"Yes, totally!" Wren responded, "Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Wren appreciated the change of subject that her friend had brought.

"No!" Milo squealed, "How was he looking at me?"

Wren smiled, "Like you were the sexiest thing he had ever seen!" Milo couldn't help his fit of giggles, as Wren playfully slapped him on the chest.

Once the blush on the blonde boy's cheeks subsided, Wren rested her head on his bony shoulder. The padding of his beige, suede coat was quite comfortable, the fur of his collar tickling her cheek as they walked.

"I'm gonna miss this place." Wren mumbled, as she admired the beauty of the ancient brick and withered turrets. As cliché as it was, Hogwarts was her home. It was one of the only places she felt safe; The abandoned Winslow manor definitely wasn't an option.

She thought about where she would go once she had graduated, and found herself falling short. Milo would offer and his parents would be more than happy to let her stay there, but she would constantly feel as if she were imposing. Her mind flickered to Remus a moment, but the thought was gone quicker than it came.

"Hm." Milo hummed in agreement, "You could always live with Snape."

Wren couldn't help but laugh, "No way!" She would be lying if she said that she hadn't considered living with Snape - he had practically raised her, after all. But he was a man who kept to himself, basking in his solitude.

And then there was the fact that Wren had nearly hexed him.

"Guess it's my bedroom floor then." Milo quipped, to which Wren replied with a tight lipped smile.

As the pair reached the peak of an ice frosted, grassy hill, they noticed a group of people huddled by the Whomping Willow. Wren couldn't quite make out any faces from their distance, but she was sure she saw the inky black bob of her potions professor.

"What's going on over there?" Milo wondered aloud, letting go of Wren's arm as he started to walk over to the mysterious group of people.

"Milo!" Wren urged, gesturing with her hand for him to come back. They were out after curfew and she knew that if Snape saw her, it would be straight to detention.

"I just want to see!" The boy whined. Wren followed her best friend down the hill with a groan, an insistent feeling in her gut telling her to turn around.

As they got closer, Wren could see the so-called Golden Trio - Ron was lying with his back up against the bark of the large tree, his face scrunched up in pain. Wren was shocked to find Sirius Black and Harry Potter deep in conversation a little away from the rest of them, the elder man's arm resting atop the young boy's shoulders.

"Wren."

She spun around to find herself face to face with Remus. The man that had hurt her in ways she couldn't even begin to describe. The girl was speechless, blinking up at the man in response.

"Sorry, professor." Milo cut in, grabbing Wren's hand and giving it a small squeeze, "We were just on a walk."

Remus didn't reply, instead watching Wren intently. His brows were furrowed as he studied the girl before him. The freckles that dotted her olive skin, the flecks of brown sprinkled in the deep blue of her eyes, the small silver moon pendant hanging from a chain around her neck.

"I'm just gonna.." Milo mumbled awkwardly, pointing over to where Ron and Hermionie were sitting, though neither Remus or Wren were listening. He dropped his friend's hand as he walked away. Wren pulled the cuffed sleeves of her jumper over her hands, cold now that Milo wasn't holding on to it.

Now that the two were alone, the tension of the situation finally dawned on Remus. He rubbed at the back of his neck with his hand in an awkward gesture, "How are you?"

"Fine." Wren replied.

He noticed how she wasn't wearing a coat, her lips painted with a blue hue from the cold, "Are you cold?" He asked, tugging at the arms of his cloak as he prepared to take it off to give to Wren.

"I'm fine."

Remus straightened his cloak, struggling to meet Wren's eye as he looked down at the scuffed, brown leather of his shoes, "Listen, I'm sorry for what I said."

Wren was silent, as she let Remus explain.

"I shouldn't have said what I said." He gave a slight shake of his head, "I'm supposed to be a role model for you, a-a guide, and I exploited that."

Wren furrowed her brows at this. She understood where he was coming from, of course. Remus was her professor. But Wren was a consenting adult, her mind aged beyond her years.

"I just think that you have a great future ahead of you.." Remus continued to ramble, but Wren had stopped listening.

In the specificity of her situation, why did age even matter? He was the first person she had ever met that made her truly feel wanted, as though her mere presence wasn't a burden. Remus saw Wren for who she really was, so why did any of that matter?

"I don't think that I would be good.."

"I love you." Wren cut him off mid sentence, "I may just be a kid with a dumb infatuation, but I.."

Without even a beat, Remus replied, "I love you too."

"Remus!" Sirius ruined the moment as he called for his friend, "A little help?"

He looked to Wren with an apology glistening in his eyes, "I'll be right back."

As Wren stood alone, she realised just how cold it was. Without Milo to hold her hand, or the warmth emanating from the close proximity of Remus' body, she could feel her muscles start to shiver and her teeth begin to chatter.

She couldn't help the feeling of loneliness that crept up her spine, which was soon replaced by an awkward tension as Snape stood tall beside her. He held his arms behind his back, not looking in Wren's direction as he spoke.

"Your mother sent me a letter." His voice was nasally from the cold. At the mention of her mother Wren's gaze shot to look at Severus who, what Wren could confidently say was the first time in her whole life, looked upset.

"She hasn't got long, Wren." She swore she heard his voice tremble.

"How long." Wren choked back the tears that were threatening to fall, stinging her eyes in the cold air.

"8 months at best."

Wren had to look away from Severus in fear of crying, her bottom lip quivering slightly at the thought of her mother slowly dying all alone in St. Mungos. Her gaze focused in on Remus, who was talking to a man that Wren had never seen before - short in stature with long, greasy hair and mouse-like features.

"There has to be a way," Wren started, her brows furrowed in thought, "There has.."

"There's no way, Wren." Snape cut her off mid sentence. The unlikely pair stood in silence for a moment, the only sound being the whistle of the wind as it blew through the wavy locks of Wren's hair.

"Moony!" Sirius' yell cut through the silence like a knife, the unknown man lunging at the defence against the dark arts professor. His clawed hands were clasped around Remus' forearms as he whispered rampant riddles. Wren watched from afar as Sirius yanked him away, violently pushing him backwards.

The mousy man managed to stabilise himself before he tumbled to the floor, his eyes locking onto Wren across the plane. He scurried across the grass, quicker than Snape could process as he fumbled in his cloak for his wand.

He reached Wren in seconds, rotting teeth showing through his manic smile as he looked up at her. "Winslow." He hissed, before morphing into a small, brown rat and disappearing entirely.

Snape was shooting spell after spell at the grass, but the rat animagus was too fast and too small. Remus appeared in front of Wren, his hands clasping her face as he moved her gaze to meet his.

"You ok?" He asked, concern etched into the furrow of his brows. Wren nodded in return, momentarily getting lost in the golden brown of his eyes.

The moment was cut short by the shrill shriek of Hermione calling her name, her hand pointed to something behind Wren.

She turned, the stark moonlight illuminating the freckles painting her frost-bitten skin. Wren takes a moment to bathe in the light, shutting her eyes as she drinks in the cold night air. Remus' hold on her drops, causing Wren to wobble slightly on her feet; She had been leaning into his touch, basking in the warmth of his skin against hers.

Wren turns to see Remus staring intently at the moon, his breathing ragged, coming out in short and breathless pants. She could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, rolling down his temples and glistening in the reflection of the moon.

Wren didn't know what to do, as she grabbed his hand in an attempt of comfort, "Remus." She whispered.

The veins in his temples are a vibrant blue, popping out as he forces his head to look at Wren, his voice coming out as more of a strangled roar, "Go!" Wren looked back at him bewildered as she is pulled away from him by a firm grip, Sirius Black throwing himself between them.

"Moony." He tries, but Remus doesn't seem to register him or his words. His eyes are still fixed onto Wren over Sirius' shoulder, her eyes wide in horror as she watches the man she had become so comfortable with, turn into something she could never have even dreamed of.

The mousy brown curls that she loved were rapidly growing, short hairs sprouting from the pores of his scarred skin. His limbs seemed to be growing, stretching as the fabric of his shirt started to rip. His breaths now sounded more like growls, the golden flecks in his eyes the only thing Wren can focus on as his face narrows, taking the form of an animal. A wolf.

She knew, of course. It was just so much more than she was expecting. Her father had told her all sorts of stories of werewolves when she was younger, but a part of her believed that's all that they were, stories.

She can't help the gasp that escapes her lips when Remus howls, a loud, ear piercing howl that causes the hairs on the back of Wren's neck to stand on end, goosebumps sprouting across her forearms. She screams as Remus claws at Sirius, sending him flying across the grassy hill.

With every step she takes back, Remus takes two towards her. She frantically searches his eyes for any signs of recognition, but all she could see was the hunger of a rabid wolf hunting its prey. A strong arm suddenly knocks her back, broad shoulders clad in a black cape, pushing her behind him protectively.

Snape's wand was pointed at what was once Remus, whose usual smile was now instead curled in a snarl. Wren gasps as her back collides with the rough bark of the Whomping Willow, her hands frantically searching for her wand in her pockets, but to no avail - she must have left it in her dorm.

Remus lunges at Snape and knocks him out the way, not bothering to attack him any longer as his eyes are set solely on the girl before him.

"Werewolves find it hard to distinguish their feelings, often attacking those they care about most due to confusing the emotion for hatred."

It was in that moment that Wren realised that Remus was after her. His judgement was clouded; He was confusing all those heartfelt conversations and heated encounters they had shared with a different emotion entirely. And he wasn't going to stop until he ripped the skin from Wren's trembling body.

Wren nearly trips over her own feet as she rounds the tree trunk and runs, her legs moving way too fast as she gains momentum down the slope of the hill. It wasn't just her own life she was running for now, but also Remus' sanity that he would lose entirely if he were to hurt her in any way.

She screams again, as something heavy jumps onto her back, pushing her angrily to the dew covered ground. She flips herself over, fear practically seeping from her skin as she looks up into Remus' eyes, his claws digging into the skin of her shoulders.

She can feel her hands shaking as she fumbles around for anything to defend herself with, a stone or even a stick, but to no avail.

"Remus?" Her voice was barely a whisper, as the tears started to freely roll down the rosiness of her plump cheeks. He didn't seem to like the fact she was crying, his growls growing louder as he leant his head in closer towards her face.

Wren's scream is raw, scratching against her throat, as Remus sinks his teeth through her shoulder, sharp bone puncturing small holes into her soft skin. She struggles beneath him, his wolf form way too heavy for her to push him off. The pain in her shoulder is unbearable, as though venom is seeping through her veins and seizing her muscles. She continues to scream, strangled cries as her vision starts to go black.

The weight of Remus atop her is suddenly lifted, as a lean, black dog tackles him to the grassy earth, their bodies violently crashing down the side of the hill. Wren took this as her chance to scramble to her feet, her nails caking in mud as she pushes herself up from the dewy ground. Her head whips round in panic when she hears what she assumes to be Sirius emit a loud yelp, shortly followed by a rather crazed howl from Remus.

Wren runs, not quite sure where she is headed as long as she can get away from Remus' line of sight. It's strange, she thought, how even after he had just ripped apart her skin and left her defenceless in a manic attack, all she was worried about was him. Was he ok? Her heart sunk in her chest as he howled again, this time his vocals sounding pained.

Her chest was heaving, her lungs crying out for even a molecule of the fresh night air, the pain in her shoulder nearing the point of unbearable.

Wren grunted as she collapsed, her legs unable to carry her any further. She resorts to crawling, Remus still howling manically somewhere behind her, her nails unearthing the grass as she pulls herself along. To her left was a small lake, circular in shape and reflecting the glistening light of the moon.

As she nears the water she notices how the usual liquid formation is crystallising, the surface of the lake beginning to ice over despite the temperature being nowhere near the negatives. Hovering over her, barely noticeable against the backdrop of the night sky, Wren sees the reflection of a Dementor in the slight ripple of the remaining water. She releases a huff of fear, her breath materialising as smoke before her, her throat feeling as though it's closing up.

The Dementor's eyeless face is watching Wren with curiosity, suspended mid air. She turns, her eyes widening in fear as she realises how many of them there are, all faces turned directly to Wren. Her breath hitched in her throat, her heart practically freezing in her chest as she backed away, her hand slipping onto the iced over pond.

The Dementors only hovered closer, closing in on Wren with every breath of fresh air she tried to take. She couldn't back away any further, the ice cold water threatening to engulf her whole. Goosebumps were popping up across every inch of Wren's skin, her bottom teeth beginning to chatter as the ghastly creatures only drew nearer.

It was as if time itself had frozen, as Wren lay face to face with her inevitable death. The Dementors were after her because of her father, that much she had figured out. Just how they were after Harry because of Sirius Black. That fact only made it all the more painful - for her to have been tortured by the idea of her father her whole life, and then die purely because it was his dark blood coursing through her veins.

Yet, she found herself to be much more comfortable with the idea of dying this way, accompanied by her most repressed memories, than having to watch as Remus succumbed to what he always feared would happen. She realised now that Remus had been trying to protect her, not from the rumours or gossip from fellow students or from an outcasted future, but from him.

From who he became when the moon was full.

The Dementor opened its mouth, wide and threatening as it practically pinned Wren down with the pure fear emanating from her. She could feel herself starting to grow light-headed, every memory of her father rushing to the forefront of her mind as the Dementor started to feed. A gut-wrenching, high pitched scream filled the open air, Wren's body falling limp under the creature's unrelenting violence.

She didn't know what to do - between the throbbing werewolf bite on her shoulder, her panic for Remus' wellbeing, and the Dementor fuelling itself on all of her deepest and darkest memories, she was as good as dead. Or so she thought.

A tingling sensation spread through her body, running through the pulsating veins in her arms and accumulating at the very tip of her fingers. Without even uttering a word, Wren conjured an immensely powerful Patronus charm, bright blue sparks flying from her fingers and causing the Dementor to recoil with a screech.

The spell reverberated in a low hum, bouncing off the ice and attacking each and every Dementor that was surrounding her. With the very little power that she had left, Wren turned her head to the side to see her patronus take the form of a common wolf, bouncing playfully along the dips in the grassy hills.

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