GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Sixteen: So Big/So Small)

Alex Fawley, quite at odds with what you might have perceived about her character, always loved horror movies.

Vampires and ghosts and Ouija boards and spectres. Something lurking in the dark, hidden under the bed or in the deepest recesses of the wardrobe. Of course, being a wizard, she understood that the monsters in the shadows had the very immediate potential to be real, but her dad also had the Ghostbusters on speed dial, so any of the resulting cringing behind the sofa was pretty much cancelled about. 

Werewolves had never scared her in films, but then again neither had zombies, and she was pretty sure that being faced with an entire world of them would be terrifying. As she woke, Alex felt more like the latter of those two creatures than she would have cared to admit.

She was aware of herself before she fully woke up. Aware that she was sprawled across rough ground, aware that there was some kind of material draped over her, aware that she really did not want to be awake. Pain was filtering in a throbbing steadiness down her sides. Slowly, she twitched her fingers, letting her nails scrape against the earth in a way that itched her mind.

"She's waking up." The voice was hushed, a hospital-bedside tone.

"What do we do?" That was someone else.

Alex held herself perfectly still, as still as possible, in the vain hope that they wouldn't take notice of her consciousness.

"Moony'll want to talk to her."

"Oh, a little wolfy get-together. That'll be fun."

"I, um... I left her some of Moony's clean clothes." A new addition informed the group, "We should wait outside."

"Yeah, she probably wont want our beautiful faces round her bed."

"I know who she will want though."

There was the creaking of floorboards around her as the boys stood, and left her side. Alex waited a few moments before summoning the strength to open her eyes. Pain rippled across her body, sending black crowding into her vision for a moment. She pushed through, dragging herself into a sitting position and heaving a relieved sigh. She seemed to be sat in some sort of ratty backroom. The entire place gave off an air of abandonment, even the particles of dust hung undisturbed, as if they had been frozen long ago, with the echoes of a lost age. 

Despite the cracked floorboards, despite the peeling faded floral print of the wallpaper, giving way to the rotted boards beyond, despite the frankly rancid odour, or that sofa in the corner that looked like it was make of bits of stitched together skin, it was the curtains that Alex noticed first. Possibly because they seemed like the most modern additions to the room. They were a rich scarlet colour, hanging crisply from a slightly too big fastenings above the window. Around their edges, light was beginning to creep into the room. Light.

Alex pulled her knees up to her chest, noticing for the first time the old patchwork rug that had been thrown over her as it dragged across the floor. Underneath, she could feel the tug of fabric where her clothes hung off her, ripped and torn as they were by her transformation. Folded neatly by her feet was a set of boy's jeans and a plaid shirt that looked far too big. A coat was folded over the armchair to her right, the one that made suspicious creaking noises every now and then. 

As hurriedly as the flashes of pain would allow, Alex shoved on the clothes provided for her, revelling in their softness against her skin and the faint smell of shampoo that accompanied them. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

A teacher. God, Alex wished she'd been able to sustain that potion for a little longer. Her fingers were already shaking, whether from cold or nerves she wasn't quite sure. Little ripples of chill ran spider's legs up and down her arms.