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Format: Novella
Chapters: 4
Word Count: 7,737
Status: Abandoned
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Contains Slash (Same-Sex Pairing), Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme
Genres: Drama, Romance, Angst
Characters: Lupin, Snape, Sirius, Lily, James, Regulus, Pettigrew, OC
Pairings: James/Lily, Remus/OC, Sirius/OC, Snape/OC
First Published: 07/08/2012
Last Chapter: 11/25/2012
Last Updated: 11/25/2012
Summary:
- gorgeous banner by Chocolate_Frog @ TDA!
Though you want to, though you try to
You can't stop the rain
For the first time it's not you
Who can heal me
After her summer turns into a disaster, Lucy Ethans finds herself questioning if she truly knows the people who surround her, and most importantly of all, if her family of werewolves are as safe as she thought they were.
ON HIATUS
Chapter 4: IV. Secrets Of A Guilty Werewolf
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Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews; I hope you continue to post more reviews because I love hearing what people think of Waxing Gibbous :)
Enjoy chapter four; I know there's a lot of drama happening but chapter six or seven should calm this story down and we'll get to see more of Severus, Lily and the Marauders in a more normal setting. Although with the Marauders I don't think anything is normal ;)
IV. Secrets Of A Guilty Werewolf
Gorgeous chapter image by OctoberSeaBreeze@TDA!
When I was five years old, my eldest brother was sentenced to twelve years in Azkaban for biting a child whilst roaming free. Somehow, though, my mother received ten years for scarring a teenager after locking herself up. I don't understand it. Biting someone and turning them... that changes their lives. Those victims are forced to endure pain on a monthly basis, endangering people without a choice, forever ostracized by society. All I have are a few scars, and yes, while the four-week-coma that I was in wasn't ideal- trust me to hit my head on a concrete pavement when grass was mere inches away- I could have gotten the same injuries by getting run over by a car or otherwise endangering my life through non-magical methods that absolutely don't involve werewolves.
I'm still human. The boy who Rory bit will never be a normal human again. And yet there are only two years between Mum and Rory's sentences. How is that possibly fair? How did the Wizengamot fail to understand that she was trapped in a burning building; that she was only released to save her life; that the only reason she was able to hurt me was because I wasn't paying attention? How does one werewolf scratch constitute attempted murder?
“Lucy!” Severus calls as he walks into the house- he has an open invitation to walk in at his leisure, because he's practically family.
“Kitchen!” I shout back, eyes firmly fixed on my French bread.
I'm currently using the last of our bread to fry French bread for my breakfast before I go shopping- Robin is working at the garage and Rory's vanished so it's up to me to get food before we starve- and if I allow myself to get distracted, I'll burn it. Severus walks just as I start putting the French bread on the plate and we both sit at the table together so that I can eat.
“Okay, Luce. Can you do me the biggest favour known in existence?” Severus asks.
“Depends.” I answer quickly; an answer he certainly expected judging from his expression.
“The Blacks are hosting a birthday party for Regulus. I've been asked on the invite to bring a plus one, and when I owled Regulus, he assured me that a lack of a plus one would “put the entire seating plan into disarray” and cause unnecessary grievance with his mother-”
“Stop,” I interrupt, holding up my hand to silence Severus. “You want me to be your date?”
“Yes.” he replies.
“At a function for pure-bloods? Hello? Muggle-born?” I ask, pointing at myself.
“The Blacks don't know you're a Muggle-born.”
“Regulus and his friends will.” I point out.
“They won't know who you are. It's a fancy dress ball, so you could wear a mask.” he explains.
Oooh. That sounds like it wouldn't be too bad.
“And yes, Lucy,” Severus adds before I have a chance to speak, “Formal Muggle dresses are similar to a witch's dress robes so you could probably get away with dressing up as Madame du Pompadour.”
“Excellent. When is it?”
“Next Friday night. I'll owl Regulus this afternoon and promise him I have a date, OK?”
“Yep. Don't worry, I won't bail on you. Although if I did, you could just ask one of the Slytherin girls.”
Severus promptly makes a face.
“What?”
“I share a common room with these girls, Lucy. All they care about is getting married off to the richest, most idolized Slytherins regardless of whether their desired spouse is intelligent or not. In fact, I actually asked Jemma Avery why she wanted to marry Evan Rosier when the man's an idiot, and she said blood hierarchy was more important than intelligence!” Severus groans.
“She obviously gained the stupidity gene as well.” I quip. “Otherwise she'd realize that procreating with Rosier would mean there's a fifty-fifty chance her children would end up stupid like him and she'd never be able to boast about how clever her children are.”
“My point precisely.” Severus agrees.
I love these moments when Severus and I are open enough to insult our own Houses; he's heard in the past my furious tirades against Black and Potter, and I join in with his insults of the more stupider people he's surrounded by. I count him as one of my best friends, yet out of three of them- Severus, Lily and Remus- Sev is the one I spend least time with, because we can only socialize together outside of Hogwarts. I could do what Lily used to and publicly spend time together with him during school, but I'm constantly afraid of being flung into the limelight and consequently having my family exposed for being werewolves.
“So what are we doing today?” he asks.
“Swobming.” I answer with my mouth full of the last bite of French bread.
“Swimming?!” he groans in disgust.
“Shopping, Severus!” I laugh after I swallow my mouthful, and start picking up random pieces of paper lying on the kitchen table looking for the shopping list.
“Like that's any better.” he sneers. “Lucy?”
I stare at the letter that I have just picked up; one written by Rory- even if he hadn't mentioned his name, his handwriting is terrifyingly similar to my own- to the victim he bit all those years ago. I shouldn't read it. It's private; not meant for my eyes. And yet I want to know why he's constantly on edge and acting oddly, not like the Rory I remember. I sense Severus shuffling his chair around the corner of the table so he is sitting next to me, reading the letter over my shoulder.
Dear Sir, (I'm sorry, I don't know your name; the Ministry is forwarding this letter to you to maintain your chosen anonymity)
I implore you not to throw this letter away; to permit me the opportunity to tell you my side of the story. My name is Fenrir Greyback Junior, known to most as Rory, and I am the werewolf who bit you. I want you to know, first and foremost, that harming you or anyone else was never my intention and I will always feel guilty for what happened.
I was turned by my own father, Fenrir Greyback, when I was seven years old, and as a result my human mother fled from my father with myself and my human siblings. I was once in the exact same position as you; the only werewolf in my family. It was why, when I discovered there were hunters planning to raid the woods where I usually transformed, I had no choice but to track down my father and ask him for assistance in finding a safe place to transform, as I didn't want to harm or kill anyone. He brought me to the woods where you lived and told me that no humans resided or visited there, and to prove it he would transform with me too. Therefore, I believed him. He later admitted to my mother after my arrest that your father had wronged him and he wanted revenge; that he had planned to lie in wait and bite you as punishment towards your father. When I had reunited with him and asked for help, he had been elated because the chances of you getting bitten had doubled with my presence. I wish I had known what he had been planning. I assure you that if I had, I would have never gone to those woods that night.
I want you to know that I have paid my debt; that when I was arrested my father was told my home address. He used that information to find my mother and punished her for running away by biting her and two of my younger siblings. My half-sister was unharmed solely because she had been staying at a friend's that night. You already know I have served twelve years in Azkaban. My family have suffered gravely for my mistake, as have you and your family. I will never forgive myself for my error of judgement.
I would have written to your parents earlier (you having been a child at the time) but Azkaban restricts severely the amount of letters a prisoner can send and receive, and I needed to maintain contact with my family. Now that I have been released, I finally have the opportunity to write which is why this letter is reaching you now.
Please don't feel obliged to reply; I will understand if I do not hear from you. I just want you to know that I am sorry for what happened, and that I always will be.
Rory Greyback
“A half-sister? But we're all biologically Greybacks! That's just perfect. Rory's lying to a perfect stranger and what's more, said stranger is the one person he always said he'd be honest with.” I mutter darkly.
“Lucy.” Rory says, and I look up to see that he's walked back into the room.
“What the hell is this?” I ask. “Why are you lying in this letter?”
I do not intend to sound so annoyed, but I cannot repress it; Rory is one of the most transparent people I know. Why would he possibly lie to a perfect stranger? And why would such a lie be created in the first place?
“I'm not lying, Lucy-Lu.” Rory answers quietly.
Rory says quite clearly in the letter that his half-sister was the one who survived; and that means it wasn't Kestrel. I am the half-sister.
“So who's my dad?” I ask.
“Fenrir Greyback.” he sighs.
“But Mum...” I whisper.
If Fenrir Greyback is my father, then I share the same father as my half-siblings. And that means that the woman who has brought me up for the past seventeen years, the woman that I call Mum... she's not my mother?
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