Wolves Without Teeth ── theodore nott ¹ ( UNDER EDITING )

chapter forty eight

TW: implied mentions of abuse & SA

Firewood cracks around her ears and the smell of a campfire drifts around her nose as she stares at the orange flames dancing. It has been two days since she has returned to Grimmauld place, two days since Theo had left him with his father. Her heart hasn't felt the same, and she has been trapped in a continuous cycle. Sleeping, eating toast and sitting blankly at whatever sits in front of her.

Sirius and Remus have left her alone for the most part, only bothering her with tea and questions about the school which she replies with relatively blank answers,

Winnie is terrified, and every minute she is away from Theo, she feels a deeper fear wrap around her throat, choking her slowly and painfully. Winnie has never asked for love, not from anyone besides her parents. She never wished to have it; now, it is all she can think about. It plagues her mind like a disease, finding the happiest parts of her and controlling them with the fear of death.

She had awoken several hours ago with her hair plastered to her face, slick with sweat and tears numbly running down her cheeks. Her hands were grasping at her chest as she dried heaved, body recoiling in on itself. Winnie isn't exactly sure when Sirius joined her after that, but when her breathing finally calmed, and her tears finally halted, she became aware of the raven-haired man soothing her—rubbing her back and slowly laying her back down. He had tried to leave at one point, only for her to reach out and clutch the velvet fabric of his night cloak, asking him weakly to stay.

So he did.

Though he was gone when she awoke again, there was a new blanket draped around her. Winnie's cheek had been hardened with dry tears, her wolf in her head whimpering, causing a headache against her temples.

She sat with a blanket draped around her legs and a cup of untouched tea in her hand. Steam no longer coiled in the air, the teabag tainting the drink to be an incredible strength by now. The blonde didn't hear Remus join the room with her; she didn't hear the concerned conversation coming from the front of the room nor see the worried glances coming her way.

So when Remus waved his wand to make her tea hot again, she startled slightly. Fingers clenching the ivory mug tighter as she looked over at the auburn-haired male. He looked as tired as she did, more worry lines running along his face, eyebags dancing under his eyes, his hair a mess on top of his head. While Remus never looked all put together, there was no denying the change in his appearance.

Through the numbness of her heart, worry grew a hole, and Winnie grasped onto it like a lifesaver. She wished to feel anything but this undeniable pain.

"Are you okay?" She questioned, voice croaking as she cleared her throat. Remus chuckled at her question, shaking his head as he sat next to her, patting her legs as he sighed.

"That's a question I should be asking you," Remus spoke quietly, glancing over at her as Winnie frowned, tearing her eyes away. They were quiet for a few moments, her brown eyes returning their stare towards the fire; she distinctly heard him breathing in profoundly beside her before he spoke soft words. "I was deeply in love once," Winnie's eyebrows deepened against her forehead as she turned her attention towards Remus, watching as he stared into the flames. "Truly devoted to them, everything I did was for them, and everything she did was for me. She was beautiful, really, and smart; she would sit and room and know everything about everyone in under two minutes; you would've liked her," Remus chuckled, his voice brimming with pain as he swallowed. Winnie, who has never heard much about Remus' past, took his words like they were freshwater—paying attention to everything.