Ravenclaw's Shadow

Chapter 10

It's been two week. Two weeks. And I'm still stuck here. I need blood. I can feel myself slipping. I've never gone six weeks without feeding. There's no point in eating human food, it does nothing for me. I'm feeling weaker. More desperate. I need blood. I need blood.

I feel itchy all over. I've scratched my skin until it's bled, leaving long cuts up my arms and legs. I can't retract my fangs. I need blood. It's risky for even Lupin to come near me. If it wasn't for his werewolf blood, I'd rip his throat out. Although, right now I might risk it. I need blood.

I can't focus on anything. I'm shaking. I need blood. I can hear footsteps coming. I run over to the door. It's made of bars so I can see out. Come on. Closer. Close enough for me to get you.

Lupin comes around the corner. I hiss in disappointment and anger. I can't eat the animal.

“Aurelia,” he says softly, “how're you feeling?”

Feeling? FEELING? I'm feeling hungry. I'm starving. I'm angry. I'm tired. I. Need. Blood.

I let out a snarl and bend into a crouch, growling in the back of my throat. Then I catch a whiff of something. I stand up straight, sniffing the air. Blood. Clean blood. Good blood. With a snarl I lunge at Lupin, snatching at him through the bars.

“Calm down,” he says, “I have blood for you, just enough so that you'll be safe to feed.”

Blood. He has blood.

He produces a bag filled with blood. I snarl, clawing at it.

GIVE IT TO ME!

“Easy,” he says. I ignore him. The werewolf is unimportant. The blood is all I need.

He gently tosses the bag so it lands just inside the doors. I fall on it, tearing into it to release the blood. I drink eagerly, spilling it down my chin and licking the bag clean. I feel it settle in my stomach.

More.

Another bag lands in front of me and I devour it in seconds. For the first time in about a week now I think of something other than blood.

I must look awful.

I stand up slowly, becoming aware of the mess I've made. There's blood and torn bits of bag all over the floor. Blood is dribbling down my forearms and staining my robes. I turn to face Lupin.

“Please excuse my behaviour,” I say. He smiles softly.

“It's nearly sun down,” he says, “I've got to go soon. I just had to bring you the blood.”

“Right, full moon,” I nod, “and I guess they sent you because they thought I wouldn't bite you?”

“Would you have?” he asks, studying me carefully.

“Maybe,” I say, “it's been six weeks. That's not safe for a growing girl.”

Lupin smiles dryly.

“Well, you'd better get cleaned up,” he says, unlocking the door and holding my wand and a bag of clothes out to me, “once it's gotten dark, you can go. Also, if anyone asks, you've been at St Mungo's with dragon pox.”

I give him a quick salute and start siphoning the blood off my arms. Lupin fades away and I listening to his footsteps as he jogs up the stairs. I sigh in relief. The last two weeks have been hellish. I've been nearly out of my mind with hunger. Up until now I hadn't thought of George at all. Or Fred or Angelina or Alicia or Lee. I hadn't even thought of how much class work I'd have to do to catch up. But now it's all flooding back and the thought of leaving this cell and returning to reality is not appealing. Better than rotting in here, though.