The Lost Wolf (a Harry Potter Fanfiction)

A Wolf At the Door

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hi everybody! This is my first fanfic centered around Cassandra, a teenager member of the British Army who doesn't remember much of her past. However, she will find the answers to all her questions about the first four years of her life when she'll meet a certain big black stray dog..

I won't mention anything too specific about the structure of the British Army and its missions since I am not English and I don't want to cause problems with mistakes on delicate subjects. I will mention a war in Eastern Europe, consider it a product of my imagination. :)

I don't think there is need to say that this is an AU story, there will be no slash and the pairing will be canon.

It is rated T for minor swearing and violence.

As I said before, I am not English, so I would be glad if you could tell me about any grammar mistake you find in the story.

Hope you enjoy it!

PS: of course I don't own anything apart from my little Cassie.

Rain.

Blood.

Screams.

Chaos.

A little girl wanders through the ruins of a once cheerful town. Bodies lie on the ground with their limbs bent in unnatural positions, jets of light break the grey monotonous sky of mid April, illuminating the empty houses in green and red. The few people still alive are fighting or running away from those scary hoodied figures. Nobody notices the girl, nobody stops to pick her up and bring her somewhere safe. She is crying, screaming for her dad, searching him everywhere. She only wants to say she is sorry for leaving the pub on her own. He had warned her not to walk all alone in the streets, no matter how smart she was, no matter how safe the town could seem.

-We are in the middle of a war, sweetheart. We have to stay united.

Why didn't she obey to her dad? He was a wise boy, the Professors always said that. Why didn't she simply sit in the pub and eat her piece of cake?

It doesn't matter anymore. She is scared, terrified. The ground is red, the blood runs in small rivulets towards the castle.

Where is dad?

For the first time in three years, the girl feels like the four-year-old girl she actually is. Her smart brain stops functioning. She stumbles on a body and falls into a puddle of mud and blood. She rises in a sitting position, crying hard.

Where is dad?

She turns and looks at the body behind her. Bad move. Aunt Mary's eyes are empty and dull, their warm brown colour is slowly fading to be replaced by a plain grey. They are watching her with a blank expression, but the child can see the accusation in her dead Aunt's face. Why did you leave us? Why did you abandon your dad?

Where is dad?

Tears start falling on the already wet ground, and suddenly, a heart-shattering scream erupts from the little girl's mouth.

WHERE IS DAD?

Cassandra woke up with a gasp, cold sweat soaking the bandages which covered her body. Breathing hard and trying not to convey her distress to her comrades in arms, the seventeen-year-old girl looked around. Fortunately, nobody had noticed anything strange in her sleep. Well, nobody would care, anyway, she thought with a sigh. With a grunt she sat upright, rubbing her scarred face with her hands. Since the accident in the base camp she had kept dreaming that damn nightmare. Probably a psycologist would have said that it was a simple representation of her sense of weakness towards the horrors of the war. But Cassandra wasn't a weak person, and certainly didn't feel intimidated by a bunch of bombs and tunks. Hell, she had been fighting non-stop since she was fifteen! What really freaked her out about that nightmare wasn't its possible meanings but the fact that it felt real.