GOOD DOG || Sirius Black

(Seventeen: Liberosis)

Liberosis: the desire to care less about things.

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When Alex woke up, she was in a parallel universe.

She had watched a YouTube video about parallel universes once. Entire dimensions that existed right next to your world, exactly the same except for the smallest of details. Like Hitler winning World War Two. Or the moon landing happening a year earlier. Or Alex Fawley's brother standing next to her sickbed.

It would have been easier, I believe, to list the ways in which Micah Fawley was similar to his twin sister than the infinite amount of differences that existed between them. They had the same colour hair- though Micah's was longer and held back with an old rubber band- the same washed-out hazel eyes, the exact same irritatingly average height. They looked identical. But, as was a worryingly common occurrence in Alex's life, looks can be deceiving.

Micah wore his arguably average looking collection of features with a sort of crooked grin and lazy confidence that, although didn't increase his attractiveness, definitely drew more attention than his hide-in-the-shadows-and-hope sibling. He even wore his uniform differently, slit-tongued serpent displayed proudly on his chest, green and silver scarf in a tight knot around his neck.

Now however, all of that pride and self-confidence seemed to have dissipated. He looked more like an actual relation of Alex's in that moment than he had in their previous fifteen years of life, huddled awkwardly in the corner of Alex's little sectioned off area of the Hospital Wing.

As the girl's eyes blinked open, hating every stab of sunlight against her vision, Micah's entire spine stiffened, his head swivelling to look at her face. He coughed, once, to make his presence known and took a little, unsure step forward.

"Hey, Alexandra." Micah stated her name formally. He reached out, perhaps to lay a reassuring hand on her arm, before his fingers spasmed midair and his arm snapped back to his side, "How... How are you?"

"I'm fine." Alex blurted out, too quickly, pushing herself upright in bed. She winced at her own lying ability. She was quite obviously not fine. She was the epitome of not-fine. If fine had an opposite that could be expressed inside of an organic, living organism, it would be Alex Fawley, the no-longer-human, no-longer-drugged-up, not-quite-Gryffindor girl, "I mean, I'm not fine, but-"

"I haven't told Mum and Dad yet." Micah interrupted, eager to get his information out, "I mean, I could- if you want- I could tell them. But Logan said the other day that you wouldn't want them to know about all this, so I thought that I shouldn't, maybe- I didn't know..."

"Thank you." Alex said, hoping she sounded as sincere as she felt. Micah was the kind of person who just said things for the sake of saying them, to alleviate the silence just in case it became awkward. The fact that he would keep a secret for her said an enormous amount.

"Okay." Micah smiled, and bobbed his head in a nod, "Okay, thanks. I mean, not thanks but, Merlin, how do we normally talk?"

Alex thought for a second, "We... Er... We don't."

"At least that explains it." Micah itched the back of his neck, "It's like having two social explosions waiting to happen in one room."

"Right." Alex laughed half-heartedly, stopping abruptly when her ribs echoed the sound with a pang of pain.

"Alexandra?" Logan inquired suddenly, with an expression that said he was working up to a question, "Why didn't you tell me that you were a werewolf?"

Alex felt her face flush red. It was one of those questions that she didn't have an ironclad reason for, and thus dreaded coming up in conversation, "Well, I... I mean, I didn't until a few hours ago, and I fell asleep, and-"