The Lost Wolf (a Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Kid A

When Cassandra woke up the sky was a kaleidoscope of dimmed, ethereal colours.

The clouds were dark violet, almost black, and floated lazily over an army of blue, blurry buildings. Where the city stopped and the horizon began, however, an explosion of yellow, orange and pink was winning over the darkness, signalling the beginning of the dawn.

Cassandra had never been a lover of the dawn, since it meant the end of the night, the end of peace. Now, however, as she stood at the window of her flat observing the still sleeping streets of London, the girl couldn't help but smile.

The sun was rising, but the night wasn't going to end. Not this time.

She had Sirius now. She had a mission, a hope.

She was going to find her father.

Cassandra shifted her gaze from the breathtaking view in front of her, focusing on the sleeping man in her bed.

He was curled up on his left side, just like his canine counterpart. His breath was quiet, but sometimes a small cough still shook his chest, making him twitch and shift, his joints cracking with each movement. Despite the two weeks spent in her home, Sirius still looked ill.

Sighing, Cassandra limped towards the shopping bag which still lied abandoned on the floor beside the camp stove. She couldn't do much for the animagus' weight, only time could have healed his malnutrition. His joints, on the other hand, were inflamed and needed to be treated, and Cassandra knew the perfect remedy for sore junctures: hot salt. It was cheap and highly effective, and didn't hurt the least, since the burning material was usually poured into an old pillowcase. Knowing that Sirius wouldn't sleep much more she put a frying pan on the stove and filled it with sea salt.

Satisfied with her work, the girl made her way towards the shower, her mind lost in the blur of fascinating books and scary hooded figures. The bathroom was completely dark, but Cassandra didn't care: she had a very good eyesight, especially in the darkness, and that was one of the reasons why she was usually chosen for the night shifts back at the base camp.

Maybe this is one of my magical powers. Maybe I am a sort of blonde catwoman!

Thinking happily about all the cool things she could do with magic, the ex soldier slowly set free her long hair, passing her fingers through the locks in order to dissolve any possible knot.

After having turned on the shower, Cassandra took off her blouse, shivering slightly in the coolness of the morning.

As she bent down to slid the skirt off her legs, a soft ripping sound echoed in the room as one of the cuts on her back reopened.

Shit. Not again…

She had tried everything. EVERYTHING. Bandages, rosemary compresses, various kinds of sutures… Nothing could stop the wounds to open over and over again. It was getting frustrating. Not to mention the fact that the skin surrounding the cuts was swollen and inflamed.

Those are not normal scars…

Those were not scars at all.

Deciding to ask Sirius about that mysterious sentence later, Cassandra wrapped her prosthesis in a special waterproof bandage and stepped into the shower, relaxing immediately as hot water massaged her muscles.

Closing her eyes, the girl could pretend for a couple of minutes that her life had been only a nightmare and that her body hadn't been the punching ball of an angry wolf.

As water dripped over her closed eyelids, Cassandra could pretend that she wasn't living in a tiny unfurnished flat but in a cozy cottage in the middle of the forest.