PSA: my book is atyd compliant, because mskingbean89 is a literal genius. i suggest you go to ao3 right now and read her masterpiece, if you haven't already.
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
May 16, 1994
"She's officially an idiot."
"Ah, please, she was always an idiot."
"She just ran straight at him?"
"Yep. Like I said, she's an idiot."
Elodie rolled over in her hospital bed, her body feeling like it had just gone through a meat grater.
"Talking about me, boys?"
She opened her eyes a crack. Fred and George were sitting beside her in the hospital wing, and Ron was asleep in the cot next to her's.
"She's alive." George grinned. "We really have to stop meeting like this."
"What happened?" Elodie croaked. "Sirius and Lupin, are they okay? Did Peter get the dementors kiss? Where are Harry and Hermione?" She rambled nervously.
Fred and George shared a glance.
"Pettigrew got away." Fred told her. "They had Sirius about ready to be kissed, but he escaped."
Elodie breathed out. "He's still on the run, then."
"Yeah."
"And Lupin? He got on alright without the wolfsbane?"
Fred bit his lip. "No one blames you, love,"
"Really, Lupin said it was best for everyone, actually." George added.
"Snape was furious when he woke up and you'd been attacked, and he, well..."
"He let slip Lupin's wolf status to a couple people."
"What?!" Elodie sat up. She regretted it immediately. Her hand hurt, worse than anything: there were trails of clawmarks running the length of her right arm, and her hand was wrapped in a thick bandage that suggested it was in even worse condition underneath.
"He's leaving at the end of the year." Fred concluded.
"No!" Elodie exclaimed. "They can't do that, not because of me!"
Fred looked at the floor. "Well... he attacked you, Els."
Elodie glared at both of them, angered at the side they were taking in this argument. "Not on purpose! He was in wolf form, if I had just gotten the potion to him a little bit sooner-"
George shook his head. "Stop it, Els. Don't blame yourself. Lupin was never going to last."
George was probably right. When it came to serious matters, George was usually right. Elodie exhaled.
"I want to see him."
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
Elodie had been told by several different people that she was too weak to walk, and by several more people that Lupin didn't want to see her. She ignored all of them.
Elodie stumbled to his classroom, her body feeling a little weaker with every step. She clung to the railing with her good hand until she got to his office. Elodie leaned against the door, slightly out of breath.
Lupin was at his desk, holding his scarred face in his hands. This looked like possibly the most broken man Elodie had ever seen. She decided not to pity him, however. Elodie knew if she was in his place, the last thing she would want was pity.
"Professor."
"You shouldn't be here." Lupin muttered, glancing at her bandaged arm.
"You shouldn't be leaving." Elodie replied. "You're the best Defense teacher we've ever had."
"And while I appreciate that," Lupin said, an edge to his voice, "I hurt you."
Elodie sat down across from him, determined to make him stay. "You didn't bite me! I won't be a werewolf."
Lupin finally met her eye, a sorrowful hint in his tone. "No, you won't. But you won't be the same, either. Full moons will be... unpleasant, your senses will heighten, you might even act like a wolf, from time to time."
Elodie shrugged. "You don't think Poppy told me all the same? Besides, I'm mates with Fred and George, and they act like wolves anyway."
Lupin offered her a small smile, but Elodie could tell he thought she was crazy. Or stupid. Or both.
"While I appreciate your kindness, I'm a danger to the students." He said firmly. "Last night proved that. And besides, I have someone... waiting for me. At home."
Elodie nodded slowly. Lupin looked tired. Maybe he wanted to leave. "Where's Sirius?"
Lupin bit his tongue. "I don't know. Not here."
"Is he who you're going home to?"
A flicker of memory flashed across her professor's eyes. And then sorrow. "You're a sharp one, Miss Florence. But no." He replied.
"So last night... was that platonic hand-holding?" She risked.
Lupin almost smiled. "What about you and Mr. Weasley? Was that platonic hand-holding?"
Elodie grumbled, crossing her arms gingerly. "It's complicated."
Lupin nodded. "That it is, Miss Florence. That it is."
Student and teacher stared at each other, a moment of silent connection passing between them. Elodie felt understood, for once in her life.
Lupin broke their glance, standing up. "It's getting late."
Elodie chewed on her lip, not wanting to leave. "I'm sorry." She muttered. She stood up too, wincing as her arm came into contact with the chair.
Lupin put a steadying hand on her good shoulder. "Elodie, I'm sorry."
"What's it going to be like?" She asked, because she was positive he was the only one who really knew.
"Horrible." Lupin sighed. "But... it can also be... beautiful."
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
May 23, 1994
Elodie felt exhausted for days. It was Monday when her bandage came off, revealing a myriad of jagged, pink scars across her palm and fingers. Elodie almost cried when she saw it. She sat in her room, tracing her scars over and over, thinking about the smooth, unblemished skin that used to be there.
It was stupid, really. Elodie's defining feature had never been her looks, much less her right hand. But it would never be the same, nonetheless.
"What are you doing?" Someone said from the doorway.
Elodie didn't feel like talking. "Go away."
"Thats not very nice." The voice chided. "I brought you butterbeer."
"Fred, I've been friends with you for five years. I'm not drinking anything you give me." Elodie rolled her eyes. This was not the day for his practical jokes.
"Poppy took the cast off." He noticed, sitting himself down on her bed. His guitar was slung over his shoulder, red hair tousled from another band practice.
Elodie tried to hide her arm under her shirt, but he took her hand before she got the chance. It didn't hurt anymore, thank Merlin, but his touch sent sparks flying down her arm.
"I think it looks wicked." Fred grinned. "Very badass, Ms. Wolf."
Elodie glanced at him. "You think so? You don't think it looks... I dunno, ghastly?"
Fred snorted. "Els, I could run you over with a car and you'd still be beautiful." He was running his fingers across the length of her scars, like they were the most enthralling thing he had ever seen.
Elodie had never been more grateful for Fred and his warped perception of the world. They locked eyes for a second, smiling.
"You're not actually going to run me over with a car, are you?"
He shrugged jokingly. "You can never predict the future."
"Wanker. Pass me the butterbeer."
"Ooh, dangerous." He waggled his eyebrows, handing her the bottle. It was a gamble, but Elodie was thirsty. If she grew a third eye, maybe it would take the attention away from her mauled hand.
By some huge stroke of luck, the butterbeer wasn't poisoned. Elodie laid down on the quilt, taking a long sip.
"Why does everything happen to me, eh?" She sighed.
Fred didn't say anything, though there was sure to be millions of good jokes he could've made about that. He plucked at the chords of his guitar, and Elodie noticed the small indents in his fingers from playing all day. She wanted place kisses on his fingertips, which were undoubtedly sore from pressing the metal strings.
She closed her eyes, listening to the slow, calming rhythm he was playing. It wasn't from any song she could recognize. It was purely Fred.
𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
She met Forrest later that day, in the sunny courtyard. Fred had convinced her to wear a short-sleeved shirt, because he thought the scars were too cool not to show off.
Elodie had tried to convince herself the same, and had almost succeeded in doing so, until she saw her boyfriend.
"Oh, doll," He said sympathetically. "Oh, that looks awful, I'm so sorry.
Shit, he thought it looked horrible. Elodie suddenly regretted her shirt choice. She made a mental note to change after lunch. Obviously, this was a mistake. Not everyone was as liberal with what they considered "cool" as Fred was.
"Its alright," she gave Forrest a pained smile. "Doesn't hurt that bad."
They walked hand-in-hand to lunch, and Elodie couldn't help but notice the lack of sparks flying up her arm.
Forrest was talking about his graduation and the World Cup-two subjects that Elodie had avoided until now. It had just seemed so far away.
"Mum and Dad got us tickets yesterday, and we'll get there the day before the game, to set up. I'm so excited for you to meet Nelly, our house-elf. She's adorable, really." Forrest rambled.
"I'm quite excited." Elodie admitted. "I've never been to a real quidditch game before."
"Oh, it's excellent. And we'll get to see Krum in action; he's supposed to be the fastest seeker in the world."
"I can't wait." Elodie grinned, giving him a fleeting kiss. Things hadn't been different, exactly, since she told him about getting kicked out from home, or since she got attacked. But Elodie noticed the tiny things. The way he touched her less. The way he avoided looking at her arm, or directly into her eyes. Maybe he thought she was undesirable, now. Maybe, maybe, maybe...
Elodie worried for the rest of the day. It wasn't like her, to detach from her normal, smiling self. But everything felt too much. Maybe this was what Lupin meant, when he said her senses would augment. Everything just seemed a little bit worse.
Fred accused her of cynicality. He was probably right.
Elodie would have to learn to deal with this, if she wanted to survive. The sudden urges to hit or claw someone, the acute smells and sounds. Lupin had it worse. And he had lived with it.
Elodie could live with it.