𝗰𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗸, remus lupin

˗ˋ 76

CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
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-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH A NIGHTMARE
WRECKS HAVOC

. . .

It was that night when Pandora dreamt of her mother for the first time since her arrival at Hogwarts. 

When she awoke from it, she knew it made sense, but the betrayal of her own brain after weeks upon weeks of progress away from who she had been was... painful. Pandora had hardly even admitted it to herself; that Remus had helped her in ever-so-many ways; yet now it had been thrown back in her face, simply because she had tried to show that she cared. 

Because she did. It was inevitable that she would grow to care for him and upon hearing the news of his mother's illness it became clear that she really, truly did (as if the many instances prior were yet to prove it to her and the others who deemed it necessary to see). She did care for him, that was for definite. And because of that, her mother thought it right that, even in the wake of her death, to punish her. 

Because she wouldn't see it fit. Not only did Pandora care about someone who wasn't herself, but she cared about a half-blood, a werewolf of all people. That, to her mother, was perhaps the lowest offense she could commit. Dysnomia had proved that before, when her precious, doll-like daughter befriended him on a whim and she was quick to no longer be allowed out and instead restrained to her home. 

If she was to see Pandora now; in the house of a pure-blood family who turned against their 'own', Gryffindors, Muggles, Werewolves, blood traitors. Perhaps, if she was ever to witness such an extraordinary turn of events, Dysnomia herself would combust into flames and cause her own demise. But she couldn't, because her daughter had witnessed her death and as a result, would haunt her in her own way. 

Remus had left the patio first, excusing himself to the bathroom and when Pandora, reflective upon her own change in attitude, decided she was too cold she returned and excused herself to bed, citing the day to have been busy and exhaustive upon her social skills. Upon her brief glance in the room as Euphemia jumped up to wish her a goodnight and promise the delivery of a hot water bottle and the hearth in her room to be lit, she had not seen Remus.

But after she had climbed up the stairs and made her way down the dimly lit hallway to her room she found him waiting, leant agaiinst the wall by her door. He hadn't need to ask, she just held the door open for him as she passed and he had followed in behind her, settling on the edge of her bed, head in his hands, whilst she changed in the corner with butterflies aiding her privacy. 

He had leant back on his back when she settled beside him, gaze distant and focused on the ceiling above. She had pulled the covers over them when his eyes flickered close, and with her legs curled to her chest, a hand raking slowly through that mess of brown hair of his and soon slipped into a sleep of her own.

But whilst it brought Remus comfort to no longer think of his own problems, sleep only brought Pandora problems. 

It had begun with her waking up. Not at the Potter home, but the castle she had once lived in but was yet to return. It was dark, the middle of the night, a full moon hanging high above them. Her mother was stood in the doorway, watching her. 

Pandora hadn't seen her mother in years. She didn't have any pictures out, the ones she did have stored away by her father not long after he had killed her. But somehow, she looked exactly the same as she had always pictured her in those many years in her absence. Dark haired, crazy-eyed, pale and... terrifying. 

She couldn't remember what she said, but in her dream-state she had clambered out of her bed, following her mother with bare feet on the wooden floors. They had reconvened in the kitchen, where the door to the basement hung open. Dysnomia had gestured for her to go down and when her daughter had shook her head, a tight grip had circled her wrist and dragged her down without a care for injury. There, only the most horrific scene awaited, something Pandora didn't dare describe, something she didn't want to imagine in the aftermath. It was... terrifying. 

Moments after, she had shot up in her bed, legs twisted in her covers and hand trapped beneath Remus's heads. Sweating, hands shaking, she had hugged her knees, not daring to close her eyes again from fear of seeing it once more. It had been a warning, a warning of what had happened before, of what could happen if she got close and Pandora wanted to do nothing but ignore it. 

He seemed to have felt her moving, or sensed something was wrong because Remus always knew when something was wrong because moments later, still half-way traumatised from the nightmare, he too was sitting up.

"Dora." He mumbled, voice weary with sleep and mind too blurry to return to the obsessions of upset it had held prior to his dream state. His arm found her shoulders, snaking over her side until one, scarred hand curled beneath her knees and tugged her closer with a suprising level of strength. "Pandora." His voice dragged in the hum and she could feel tears in the corner of her eyes. 

It scared her. 

She didn't cry. She shouldn't cry. She couldn't cry. Her mother taught her not to cry. Her mother taught her not to care. Her mother taught her that she had ultimate control of her life. Her mother had let her know, in the most horrific way possible that she was not afraid to kill. 

"Rem." She murmured, and felt his grip tighten.

Perhaps her mother was wrong.

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