No Control // Wolfstar

Thirty Four

The following morning is as normal as a Wednesday can get. Same breakfast, same tables. The snow still blankets over the castle grounds. The sun still shone. Students wake up, get dressed, and head to their classes. It was a normal day to everybody. Almost everybody.

"It was me!" Remus cries, staring over Lisa Ward. The deep cuts were healed, but scars decorated her unconscious, ailing body.

"Mr. Lupin sit down!" Madam Pomfrey instructs, chasing him about the Hospital Wing.

"It has to have been me!" Remus is forced onto the bed by Madam Pomfrey, thrashing around incessantly. "I have to speak with Professor Dumbledore!"

"You will do no such thing until you are fully healed!"

Remus was worse off than he'd been in a long time. His body was covered in cuts clawed by his own hands, aching from the restless full moon he spent alone. When he awoke early in the morning, he found himself on the edge of Forbidden Forest near the Whomping Willow. Though his memory was faded, he knew something bad had happened last night.

Madam Pomfrey presses a cold towel coated in medicine to his arm; Remus cringes, griping the edge of the bed tightly to bear the pain. "It was me," he repeats quietly to himself.

An hour had passed before Remus was released from Madam Pomfrey's care. His legs carry him to the Gryffindor Tower with the desire to speak with his friends before doing anything drastic. James and Lily are on the couch huddling closely, popping up at the sound of the portrait opening. Their eyes widen, immediately rushing over to him.

"Remus!" Lily exclaims as she wraps her arms around him tightly.

"Sit down," James says seriously. "Something happened last night..."

Remus does so, resting his forearms on his knees. Lily retells the story of what she remembers, but he can only think of what he's done. The horror of his unintended actions. He buries his face in the palm of his hands, remorse taking over. His worst nightmare. "It was me," he admits muffled. "I saw her, in the Hospital Wing. It was me. It had to be."

Lily's hand rubs soothing circles on his back, casting a wary look to James. "Remus I swear I didn't see you there," she tells him.

"But you said that there was at least five minutes of a snowstorm. I could've easily have snuck out of the passage and attacked her! What if - if -"

"Mate," James interrupts. "Take a breath."

"Why attack just her?" Lily suggests reasonably. "McGonagall doesn't think it's logical to assume it was you."

"But it can't have been a spell!" Remus exclaims. "There's isn't a spell that a can do that much damage!"

James cracks his knuckles, staring off in thought. He bites his bottom lip, turning to them with puzzled eyes. "That's what they're trying to figure out. They think it was either Snape or...Sirius."

"They all had their wands drawn," Lily recalls, lacing her fingers through her hair. "It could have been either of them. But I - I don't want to believe they could do that."

"Sirius wouldn't, I don't believe it," James insists irritatedly.

"Why do they think it was either of them?" Remus asks.

"Well, according to sources Sirius has said some pretty aggressive things to Lisa in past fights," Lily says. "And that night Snape threatened her as well. They both had motive to hurt her, and they were both at the scene."

"Lily, could you give us a moment?" James asks. He watches her leave, waiting a beat to ensure she was out of earshot before speaking again. "I'm so sorry we weren't there," he says turning to Remus. "Peter and I were in the dorm running late. Sirius had left way before us, said he wanted to talk to you if he got the chance."

Remus furrows his eyebrows. "He wanted to talk to me?" James nods. "About what?"

"I don't know. He didn't say anything more."

"Bloody - fuck!" Remus kicks the table out, pushing back against the couch. "I could've killed them all! When I changed back, I was by the Whomping Willow. James if it was me..."

"Remus it wasn't you."

"But you don't know that for sure." James falls silent, accepting the words. "If it was me. And I scratched her deep enough. She could turn, too. I - I've ruined her life..."

*

*

*

Frances hadn't seen Sirius on her usual way to Herbology. On most days he was walking alone or with that boy, Remus, heading elsewhere. Her stomach lurched with an odd feeling. At lunch, the Gryffindor table seemed to have a gap. The usual spot he sat in with his friends only consisted of Peter Pettigrew and James Potter. Something wasn't right.

Regulus held back after their History of Magic class was finished. He packs his bag carefully, letting his friends leave without waiting. Frances tucks her thumbs under the straps of her backpack and hikes it higher on her shoulders. She waits for Regulus to leave before quickly following.

You can do it, Frances, she encourages herself. Just talk to him.

"Regulus!" she calls.

The boy stops mid stride, turning around. His expression is as always, bored and uninterested. Frances takes a few steps until she stands before him. For a fourth year she was very petite, the top of her head just barely reaching his chin. His stare is intense, sending the butterflies in her stomach in a frenzy. Gulping, she musters up the courage to speak again.

"Regulus."

"You said that already," he says. "Who are you?"

"I'm Frances. We're in the same year." The answer doesn't seem to satisfy him, for he only looks more confused. "We have History of Magic together."

He crosses his arm, his left hand clad in rings clutching his elbow. "You're that girl Ward always tries to duel," he states more as a question.

"Uh, yeah. That's me."

"I don't have much time to be wasting, what do you want?"

Frances bounces on her feet nervously. "I was wondering if you'd heard from your brother recently."

Regulus scowls at the motion of Sirius, "What's it to you?"

"I -"

"Have a little crush on him, don't you?"

"No!"

"He doesn't want anything to do with mudbloods like yourself. And neither do I, so if you'll excuse me." He pivots on his heels, walking away briskly.

Frances' heart drops to her stomach, completely, utterly devastated. The only thing she can do is watch him walk away, his last words still ringing in her ears. What was I thinking? she cries to herself. People like Regulus Black don't talk to people like Frances Berkshire. She drags the sleeve of her robes over her teary eyes and runs the other way. Don't cry. Don't cry.

Staring at the floor as she walks, Frances doesn't even notice the girl right in front of her. "Watch it!" a shout comes. But it's too late. She's barrels straight into the sixth year.

"Oh Merlin!" Frances chokes out. Looking up through watery eyes, she stares at the blonde Gryffindor. She was Remus Lupin's girlfriend. Her books are spilled across the corridor from their collision. "I'm so sorry. I'll help." Frances gets on her knees, picking up the books one at at time. Herbology. Charms. Potions. DADA. "Here."

Abigail snatches them back, glaring down; she charges away not bothering to speak another word to the Hufflepuff.

As Frances passes the courtyard, the glimpse of black hair catches her eye. Sirius. Opening her mouth to call out, she shuts it before speaking. Maybe Regulus was right. Sirius wouldn't want anything to do with her. Deciding not to speak, she sulks the rest of the way back to her dorm. Sitting in front of the mirror, she takes in her appearance. Bringing her hand to her hair, she tugs at the pink ribbon letting her black hair tumble down loosely. She stuffs the "childish" ribbon into the bin, grabbing the brush. Now nobody could make fun of her.