The Space Boy and The Red Head

3 - At the Kitchen Table

Friday - 8th of December 1995

The metallic smell of iron was strong. That was the first thing he noticed as he woke up. That and the cold. He was scared to open his eyes as he knew that smelling that much iron meant there was a lot of blood. A lot of his blood. The pain certainly reminded him of that. Despite every fibre of his being telling him not to, he carefully stood up. It felt like his body was on fire, this wasn't a surprise after living with the condition for so long. Limping towards his robe, he used the wall to support him, unable to bear weight through one of his legs. After wrapping it around himself he thought to have a quick look at his injuries before someone would come to let him out. He almost vomited after seeing why his leg hurt so much. The bone had broken and was sticking out of his skin at an odd angle. No matter how many times he'd awaken with broken bones, seeing them never got easier and he felt extremely queasy. He then slowly lowered himself back to the ground, ignoring the fact he'd sat in a puddle of his own blood from the previous night which his tattered robe was trying to soak up.

He waited patiently, staring straight ahead as the pain wouldn't let him go back to sleep. He could tell that the sun was rising now as the light coming through the crack in the ceiling changed through the many shades of a sunrise. This meant someone would be out soon. He just had to wait a little longer. He soon heard the door of the house open and close. Nervous footsteps grew louder as they approached the wooden shack.
"Apollo? Are you awake?" His dad's voice called out in a hushed tone after removing the silencing charms. Apollo knew it wasn't just to avoid others hearing about their son being locked away, or to avoid waking up the boy if he was indeed sleeping. No it was also to ensure that the monster had transformed back into a boy. Apollo knew that they'd always be scared that the danger might still present around him.
In too much pain to speak, he knocked three times on the wall. Hoping his dad would hear and aid him, he was glad that it wasn't his brother who had to see him like this.

The door creaked open and the sunlight temporarily blinded Apollo. There was a sharp intake of breath from David as he saw his eldest son sat in a pool of his own blood. His arms and legs were still leaking blood. And the bone in his leg had shredded the skin it had popped out of. There appeared to be deep gashes on his chest too, under the robe. But the worst was the newest one on Apollos face. A deep gash that ran across his lips, over his cheek and over his jawbone. That one would be difficult to heal and to hide. As David was getting older he found it harder to bring the boy back into the family home after a full moon without the assistance of magic. He carefully, but quickly, levitated the boy into the house and on to the kitchen table. Lying there just like he had all those years ago.

Rosie was already waiting for the pair. She had her emergency healing kit prepared and breakfast started on the stove. Despite the parent's protests, Cormac was also there. He had been reading up more on healer magic, he wanted to be able to help his brother. The mother and son duo quickly began patching up the injured werewolf who kept drifting in and out of consciousness. David stood helplessly watching the scene before Rosie turned to him.

"Cormac and I have this under control. Go pack his bags, we'll have to leave soon" she instructed. Her husband nodded and ran off to do just that.

Apollo awoke feeling hard wood underneath his back once more. Though this time the room was warm, and smelt of slightly well-done breakfast. His stomach grumbled loudly as he sat up on the kitchen table. His mum had noticed he was awake and brought a damp cloth over, placing it on his forehead.
"Good morning sweetie, does anything still hurt a lot?" She knew he'd still be in a lot of discomfort no matter how much healing she performed, it was a side effect of the curse after all, but she wanted to know if anything was unbearable. Apollo just shook his head no, it hurt no more than usual.

Burnt toast and eggs had never tasted so good to Apollo before. Barely chewing the food he was consuming in such a manor you'd think the wolf still had a slight hold on his mind. Across the room his mum had started to tidy up the kitchen, using magic to sweep the floor, and scrub the pots whilst she was trying to desperately scrape the charred remains of some rather unfortunately well done hash-browns. She cleared her throat, looking over to her son.
"Apollo, your dad and I have already mentioned this to your brother, but we have something to tell you." Her words sent a nervous shiver down his spine.
"Is this about the letter?" He queried. After turning 16 the previous year, he had received a letter, along with a few possessions that had been left for him by his biological father before his death. The ministry had sealed them away until his 16th birthday, when they had finally granted him access to them and had sent them via owl. Truth be told the letter lay unopened upstairs, the wax seal remained unbroken.

"It's not about that dear. Well, look the thing is, your dad and I have been given a very important task to do. It's very serious and we aren't at liberty to discuss it with you boys. However, we will have to temporarily relocate for a while. We leave in an hour I'm afraid. We tried to wait till further along in the moon cycle, but Dumbledore was adamant that it had to be today."

Apollos heart sank. His parents were going to be busy again with more of this secret stuff.

"Your father has packed the essentials for you. I advise you go pack anything else you would like to bring. And try to clean up a bit. We will be staying with quite a few folk." She said, finally getting the pot clean and adding it to the to-be-dried pile.

"Oh, ok mum. Thanks for letting me know" he mumbled sarcastically. Obviously not too thrilled with the lack of preparation he was given. And now he'd have to be around people, the morning after a transformation. He would have fought against leaving if he had had the energy but he was far too tired and sore to do so. So instead he grumpily packed the few things he'd received from his biological father, some extra reading books, a spare robe enchanted to provide warmth that soothed his aching muscles, and some other items that would help distract him or help with his recovery.