Broken Feathers || Marauders Era

{7} Remus Lupin

Small confession: in all my months regularly transforming into a bird, I had never once flown. I was very much a ground-loving bird.

Unfortunately, with the situation I now found myself in, that might have to change. 

We had gone to our house in the country for Christmas, something which I was glad about because there was a lot more space, and Victoria had noticed something was off about me and kept trying to get me to talk. I gave her the cold shoulder. I felt a little bad about it, but I didn't waver.

At least it was Christmas. I was happy about that, as despite it being mandatory family time, there was another, very vast topic of conversation aside me. 

Although, the keyword was 'was', as I woke up that morning to snow outside, a dizzying headache and split vision, the latter two I had come to realise meant a transformation was coming within the next few hours. 

Thankfully - kind of - Tori chose that moment to burst into my room, already dressed in a hideously vibrant and tacky Christmas outfit, with a wide grin on her face. Sometimes I think she forgot that she was supposed to be the older sister.

She practically pulled me of bed, threw clothes at me and then skipped - honest to god skipped - out of the room. I got dressed, adding an extra coat so if I had to make a quick getaway outside I wouldn't freeze to death, and followed her downstairs. Not nearly as merrily though. 

The morning passed in a whirlwind of food, presents and bright lights. I was beginning to think that my kinda-episode when I woke up had been a false alarm, but I was proven wrong around lunchtime. 

I bolted without warning, ignoring the cries of my father and sister as I ran awkwardly across the snow. I made a beeline to the little cottage out back, which was a sort of guesthouse that was supposed to be for any visiting family, not that there was anyone except the three of us. 

I don't know what possessed me to climb up to the roof, but that was where I found myself when I transformed, clinging to slippery tiles. 

I squawked, flaring my wings and scrabbling for a hold on anything. It only worked for a moment, which landed me in the aforementioned situation, where I had effectively been flung into the air and was now plummeting towards the ground. 

In a moment of pure desperation, I stretched my wings out and twisted in midair so I was the right way up. I didn't really know how to fly, but I had seen birds do it all my life, so it couldn't be that hard, right?

I flapped my wings, but it didn't seem to work. The ground was still approaching me at an alarming rate. 

I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't an actual bird, I had no one to teach me to fly. I was starting to wish that my father hadn't left Aquila back in London. 

I flapped harder, hoping that something happened. Literally anything, at this point. 

To my surprise, 'something' did happen - and that something was akin to flight. 

I jolted forward, and the ground stopped getting closer. I was flying. Of course, given my luck, my flight path was directly into a tree. I swerved as best I could, and plummeted again. Thankfully, this time it was a little softer, and I landed in the snow with a gentle thud instead of a bone-breaking crash. 

- X -

The rest of the Christmas holidays came and went without me ever breaching the subject with anyone. I still talked to my friends, but even less than I did before. I think they had noticed, but if they had, they didn't say anything. I threw myself into my classes instead.