Caiti had been given special permission to leave muggle studies, her final class of the day, twenty minutes early, so that she could head down to the dungeon and start work on the wolfsbane potion. All day, she had dreaded the moment she would have to begin. She was terrified of so many things: of messing up the recipe, of giving it to Marlowe, of how she would feel that night, worrying about him, of how he would act the next morning.
All through her lesson, she ignored Bill's attempts to joke with her as usual and stared at the clock at the front of the room. She watched seconds tick by until the minute hand showed twenty till and, very quietly, she began to pack up her things.
"What are you doing?" Bill hissed. Caiti just shook her head and put a finger to her lips. She stood and tiptoed to the door, sending a small nod and a mouthed "thank you" to her professor, and then she stepped out the door. Every eye in the class was on her as she left.
All the way to the dungeons, she was fidgety and restless. The butterflies that had been messing with her stomach all day were back full force, and her heart, which had been pounding on and off whenever she thought about that night, had just sped up again. She couldn't stop wringing out her hands and tugging at the chain of her necklace, just for something to do.
Either too soon or not soon enough - Caiti could not decide which - she had arrived outside Professor Pym's office. She let herself in as they had discussed; class was still in session for another seven or eight minutes. Her cauldron sat in the corner, right where she'd left it, empty and dust-free.
She allowed herself thirty seconds of pure terror.
Thirty seconds turned into ten minutes. When Professor Pym entered, Caiti was still standing by the door, biting her lower lip and staring at the empty cauldron. She put a hand on Caiti's shoulder and asked, "Would you like some tea?"
Caiti hesitated and then she nodded slowly. Professor Pym led Caiti over to her usual chair and she sat down. A few moments later, she handed Caiti a teacup and saucer and poured out the tea, pale yellow with a soothing herbal aroma. Caiti lifted it and took a sip. It was warm and comforting.
"There's more to this than skill, isn't there?" said Pym in a low voice from across the desk. Caiti nodded again. She took another sip of tea.
Professor Pym didn't say anything else. Her way was very subtle, very few words, only suggestions towards what she wanted her students to understand, but it was effective. She had a knack for saying just the right thing, just enough. Caiti stood again and began to gather the ingredients she needed. She was completely silent as she placed them all on the work surface and sat down again to begin preparing them. She worked more slowly than usual in these early steps, meticulously.
When she was finished, she took another sip of her tea. It was beginning to go cold now, but it helped her procrastinate a few seconds longer. Finally, she took out her wand, pointed it at the cauldron and said "Aguamenti." She lit the flame underneath, and she began to work. With the first ingredient in the water, Caiti calmed down at once. Her work was all that mattered: neat and orderly and precise. She thought of nothing else.
---
Immediately after classes ended, Marlowe stalked up to his room and laid himself flat down on his bed. He glared up at the deep blue hangings above his four poster. His mind was completely blank. He did not move for an hour and a half, not until he heard a soft knock on the door, two quick, a short pause, and then a third strike. "Marlowe?" said a voice.
Caiti. He shut his eyes and sighed out his nose. He could not talk to her right now.
The door opened a crack and through his peripheral vision he was able to see half her face peeking inside.
"Marlowe?" she said again. "Can I come in? Just for a minute?"
He began to push himself to seated, knowing she was going to come in regardless, but he kept his mouth shut. She opened the door just enough to slip through. It was the first time he had seen her that day. He had been avoiding the great hall and, when he had met with the headmaster a few days before to discuss the details of his full moon accommodations, he had tried to get out of going to class too, but Professor Osset had insisted he go anyhow.
He felt awful, exhausted and worn down, a little feverish even. This time was worse than the first, because he knew what was coming, and because, with less to wonder about, he was more acutely aware of his own body's changing nature. He felt like a different person.
Caiti looked very pretty, with her hair tied half back as usual. He saw the blue ribbon as she turned to shut the door. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her eyes a little glassy. And then he saw what she was holding. Though he could not see inside yet, the contents of the goblet in her hand were unmistakeable. Thin, white smoke curled over the edges, dissipating before it reached very far from the rim of the cup.
Marlowe's insides boiled with shame. He felt hot all of the sudden, though the room was dark and drafty. He looked away from her.
"Sorry," she said very quietly. "I know you want to be alone and stuff... I just wanted to bring this for you." She took a few tentative steps towards him and set the goblet down on his bedside table. It made a dull clunk against the wood surface. She stepped back and added, "I made it."
Marlowe sat up a little straighter though his gaze remained directed firmly at his bedcover. "You made it?" he asked in a low voice. His tone was more spiteful than he had anticipated, but he found he did not regret it.
Caiti seemed to have caught the undertone too, because when she spoke again, she sounded nervous, scared even. Scared of him, probably. He bit down hard. "It's really difficult," she said. "But I've been working on it for months. Since before Christmas. And... and I practiced every day when you were gone, and now I can do it. I promise it's safe. It's perfect. I made sure. And-"
"I thought Professor Pym was going to make it," Marlowe interrupted.
Caiti hesitated. She took another step back. "She was," she said. "But we'd been practicing... she was helping me learn. Like I said, it was before Christmas... we didn't know... but then I thought, since I'd been learning it anyway, I could just... make it for you."
Marlowe finally looked up at her and he felt oddly satisfied when he saw how wide her eyes had gone, how lined her forehead. "I just wanted a way to say thank you," she finished. Her voice went very quiet again.
Marlowe glared at her. He was not sure why he felt so aggressive towards her all the sudden, but it felt good to have someone to be angry at. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense that Caiti should be the receiver of all the crap he was feeling. It was because of her, after all, that he had landed in this situation at all.
"I can leave you alone if you want..." she said. Her round face suddenly looked very childlike, naive.
"No," said Marlowe. "You wanted to talk about it, right? So let's talk about it. Why not. What've you got to say?"
Caiti blinked a few times and her lips parted. Very slowly, she slid her arms across her belly to hug herself. She clutched her sides and though she remained standing up straight with her shoulders back, she tucked her chin down and looked slouched anyway, vulnerable.
"I don't know," she said finally. "I- I just wanted to tell you thank you. I just- you saved my life." She sucked in her lower lip for a second. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't know what to say?" he smirked. "You've been burning to talk about this for a month."
"Not like this, Marlowe," said Caiti quickly. "Please, not like this. I don't want to argue with you. I was only trying to help-"
"Maybe you should think twice about that," said Marlowe darkly. "Helping people doesn't always turn out to be a good thing, does it?"
Caiti's eyes had begun to water. She blinked hard and swallowed and was able to stop it temporarily.
"Last time I helped someone, I got bitten by a werewolf."
"Marlowe," Caiti pleaded. "Please-"
But now he'd gotten started, he couldn't stop. There was so much brooding inside him that he had not let out - not to his mother, not to Caiti or Sean, not to anyone. He looked directly at her now, eyes narrowed. Caiti looked terrified, but she held his gaze anyway. "I saved your life, and I gave up mine. You know what I just found out a few days ago? I got dropped by the Bats because" - he held up his fingers to form air quotes - 'my condition is dangerous, volatile, and not acceptable for a professional quidditch team of wizards. Not werewolves.'"
All the sudden, Caiti's fear slipped away into pity. "Oh Marlowe," she said. "I'm so sorry. That's-" But Marlowe did not want her pity. It made the embarrassment overwhelm him again. Pity made it so clear that he was different, that he was less than what he used to be.
"I saved your life and now, once a month, I have to turn into something else and take drugs to suppress my desire to kill people. I have to wear this idiotic badge every day so no matter where I go, people know I'm dangerous. So people can judge me, and mock me, and deny me things. I did that for you, Caiti. Thank you is not going to cut it."
Caiti dropped her hands from around her waist. Her fingers curled into fists. She mouthed soundlessly for a moment before she was able to come up with what she wanted to say. "I never asked you to!" she said. Her voice came out somewhere between a scream and a gasp. "I never asked you to do that. I never would have asked you to do that. Please don't pretend this is my fault. It just happened. And it sucks. I hate it. I hate seeing you unhappy and I hate when people make fun of you, and what that quidditch team did... Marlowe, that's illegal. They can't legally deny you a position on the team just for having lycanthropy."
"Oh don't call it that," snapped Marlowe. "Call it what it is, Caiti. I'm a werewolf."
"So what?" she yelled. "I don't care. I don't care what you are. I love you, Marlowe. Please, don't be like this. I don't want to fight with you. I was just trying to help. Listen... we can- we can write a letter to the team. We can-"
"This isn't about quidditch, Caiti. This is my whole life. I don't need your help. I don't need you." He punctuated each of these last words and his voice seemed to ring out after he had finished speaking.
Caiti stumbled back towards the door like he had physically hit her. He saw the corners of her lips quiver, but she took a deep steadying breath, stood up tall and said in a perfectly even, low voice, "Well, drink this anyway." She nodded to the potion, still sitting full on his nightstand. "Don't waste it." Then she turned, flung the door open and slammed it behind her. The empty water jug by Sean's bed shook with a soft metallic clattering. He heard Caiti finally let out a sob behind the door and then her footsteps running down the stairs. He stared at the place she had gone for thirty seconds, seething.
He breathed heavily and he felt tense all over. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he grabbed the goblet and downed the potion. He could not help but notice that the taste, while still rank, was slightly more bearable than the last time. No doubt this was Caiti's expertise.
Guilt set in at once.
---
Downstairs in the common room, everyone had heard the end of the argument and had put their heads together to discuss. Caiti came flying out from the stairs to the boys dormitory and ran straight across the room and up to her own dorm. Evelyn turned to Sean. "You talk to him, I'll talk to her?"
He nodded and they split, heading up opposite staircases.
Sean opened the door to his room quietly and went to sit on the edge of his bed, next to Marlowe's. His friend was lying on his back but he rolled over to face away from Sean as soon as he saw him come in.
Sean wasn't quite sure what to say. He felt a little angry with Marlowe for the way he had talked to Caiti, but he was also quite certain that, if it were any other day, his words wouldn't have come out that way. As much as he didn't want to make excuses for him hurting his sister, something he had specifically made Marlowe promise not to do on more than one occasion, Sean couldn't help giving him a little allowance.
"Are you alright?" he asked finally.
"Go away," said Marlowe.
"Why did you talk to Caiti like that?"
"Go away," said Marlowe again. "I don't want to talk to you."
Sean waited a minute before he tried again. "You don't know what she was like... Caiti. When it happened. You didn't have to see her. She was screaming. She wouldn't stop. We couldn't get her off of you. I've never seen her that way. It was awful. And then she cried for days and-"
"Stop, okay?" Marlowe sat up and turned around. His eyes were very red and he was shaking. "Just stop. I don't want to hear it." His voice was beginning to shake now too. "I regret it, okay? I regret everything. I messed up. Just please leave me alone." Marlowe turned away again and Sean stood tentatively.
"Fine," he said quietly, at least satisfied that Marlowe recognized his mistake. Sean walked back out of the room and back to the sofa he had been seated on with Evelyn. He did not reopen the book he'd been reading from, but slumped down low in the cushions so that his shoulders were level with the top of the back of the couch, and his head could rest on top of it. He stared up at the domed ceiling and waited for Evelyn to return.
---
Across the common room, in the sixth year girl's dormitory, Evelyn found Caiti seated cross legged on her bed with her covers bunched up in her lap. She leaned forward onto the pile of blankets sobbing and did not look up when Evelyn came in.
"Caiti?" said Evelyn. She came to her bed and sat herself down, placing one hand on her back. "Caiti, are you alright?"
Caiti sat up a little, took a deep shaky breath, let it out with a sob, and shook her head. Evelyn smoothed her hand over her back and said, "That's okay. You're allowed to feel sad." Caiti hugged Evelyn tight and Evelyn matched her. "Just let it out," she said. "You can cry." Evelyn continued to draw her fingers up and down Caiti's back in a soothing, maternal sort of way until Caiti pulled away from her several minutes later.
She stood up and went to her trunk and began to rummage around for something. She pulled out a bottle, mostly empty, of a light blue potion that shimmered a little when it hit the light from the window. Caiti tipped most of what remained into the cup by her bed, put the stopper back in, and drank it. She set the cup down next to the bottle, and curled up on the bed.
"He's such a jerk," said Caiti. "God, I hate him. I can't believe-" But she stopped and a few more tears slipped out. She hid her face in her pillow.
"You don't hate him," said Evelyn. "And he's not a jerk. A bit of an idiot, yes, but not a jerk."
Caiti sniffed. Though she was still crying, the potion was obviously taking effect already. "I think he just messed up," said Evelyn quietly.
"I still think he's a jerk," Caiti mumbled into her pillow. Evelyn laughed.
"Okay," she said.
She sat with her for a while longer until Caiti turned her face out from the pillow again and said, "I'm going to go to bed." It was just past six o'clock.
"Do you want me to bring you some dinner first?" asked Evelyn.
Caiti shook her head. "Not hungry," she said.
"Okay," said Evelyn again. She tucked Caiti's hair behind her ear. "Tell me if you need anything, alright?"
Caiti nodded and Evelyn stood to leave. Just as she reached the door, she heard her say, "Thanks, Ev."
Evelyn smiled just a little bit. "Love you, Caiti."
"Love you too."
Downstairs again, Evelyn found Sean had beat her back. She joined him on the couch, sitting down as low in her seat as he was so that their heads were even. She turned her face to him. "How'd it go?" she asked.
"Not well," said Sean. He looked at her too, but only for a second before he resumed staring at the arched support beams in the ceiling. "But he regrets it, at least."
"I thought so," said Evelyn.
"How's Caiti?" he asked.
She sighed. "Sad," she said. "She took some of that potion she gave you in the first task and that helped a little."
Sean reached his arm up and around to rest over Evelyn's shoulders. She readjusted her head, and snuggled up to him. With her ear near his heart, she synced the pace of her inhales and exhales up with his.
Just then, Marlowe emerged down the stairs. With his head held low and his eyes on the floor, he slunk around the edge of the common room and out the door without a word or a glance at anyone.
"I hope he's alright," said Evelyn. "It can't be easy..."
Sean nodded. "No it can't," he agreed. After several minutes in silence, Evelyn sat up, pulled a hair tie off her wrist and began to gather her thick, red hair into a ponytail. "Shall we go to dinner?" he asked.
She nodded. It was getting late already. They would catch the tail end. Most of the common room had cleared out while she had been upstairs with Caiti.
They stood to go, but Sean paused and looked at her. "I love you, Ev. I don't tell you that enough.
Evelyn smiled and pecked him on the mouth to reciprocate the sentiment. "Come on, I'm hungry," she said. She wrapped her arm around his waist and he put his around her shoulders as they headed out the door.
---
The next morning, Marlowe felt awful. Instead of returning to the castle in the morning for class as had been planned, he stayed hiding out in the little building they had made for him in the forest. There was not much to it but four bare walls and one uncomfortable sofa which he was now sat on with his head bowed down over his elbows. He had a pounding headache, not to mention the wracking guilt from his conversation with Caiti.
He was not quite sure that Professor Osset really understood his position. In his earnest to re-incorporate Marlowe into Hogwarts life, he had not, apparently, stopped to consider the physical effects of the full moon. The symptoms had been much less pronounced when his whole existence was lying around in a hospital bed and going to movies with his mother. This time around, trying to juggle school work and quidditch and the constant stream of insults being thrown at him by the Slytherins, he had felt for the last week like had a bad head cold without the congestion. His head had felt heavy and a little like he was hearing everything through glass, and then that last day he had not been able to eat anything at all.
His stomach growled now, but the thought of going to the great hall that morning with everyone kept him where he was. There was not a student in the school who did not know that last night had been the full moon. And worse, Caiti would be there. Every time he thought about seeing her, he felt hot shame creeping in from the edges of his hairline to the tips of his fingers. He didn't know what he could possibly say to her that would make it better. He was so embarrassed that he had raised his voice, that he had insinuated that any of this was her fault. He wished he had run after her. He wished he had just said thank you for the potion.
He laid back on the couch with his knees up, because it was not long enough to stretch out on. He had not slept at all, just as the last time. He did not think he would ever be able to, even without a bad fight with Caiti just before. His eyes burned, but the couch cushions were lumpy and the room was cold and a little damp. It had rained that night, a cold, early spring rain.
The scent of the rain seeped in the cracks under the door: a little fresh, a little fishy, and a little like dirt. He shivered. If he estimated correctly, the first lesson had probably begun, meaning he could safely head back through the forest and up to the castle. He would just need to be careful to avoid the greenhouses, and one could never be quite sure where the care of magical creatures class would be headed, so he'd have to keep an eye out for them too.
His muscles ached when he stood, but it felt reassuring to be back in his own body so he almost enjoyed the feeling. He pushed through the door, shoved his hands in his pockets, and began his slow trek up to the castle.
Lukewarm sunlight poked in through the treetops, not quite enough to warm his skin. By that afternoon, he thought, the temperature would probably not be too bad, but for now, his breath fogged in front of his mouth when he breathed out. He balled his hands into fists inside his pockets for extra warmth.
The path was mostly clear, but it was still littered with twigs, branches, and brittle, brown leaves leftover from the fall, many of them now lace-like with the frequency at which they had been chewed through by the forest-dwelling insects. The debris crunched and cracked under his feet, the only sound besides the birds hiding up in the trees.
He thought that if it had been any other day, any other situation, he might have enjoyed the walk. It was nice to be alone, outside. It was quite peaceful.
Or at least it would have been, had he not felt so guilty. When he got back to Ravenclaw tower, he planned to closet himself up in his room again, not in the mood to talk to anyone. Perhaps, if he felt confident, he could pop by the kitchens for a visit with the houselves before he headed up. He really was very hungry.
At the edge of the forest, Marlowe took a wide path around the greenhouses, hoping to stay as hidden as possible and then, head down low, he entered the castle, checked a large iron clock, numbered in roman numerals for the time, and, estimating that he had about thirty minutes to get a bite to eat and make it up to Ravenclaw tower before class let out, he hurried down to the kitchens.
---
Marlowe did not come out of his room again until that evening. Sean had been up to see him several times since classes got out and had brought him some dinner. Marlowe thought he was being surprisingly kind about the whole incident, which surprised him, because he had rather expected Sean to want to punch him or, at the very least, give him the silent treatment. He had a feeling Evelyn had something to do with it. She was so reasonable.
The fourth time Sean came upstairs to ask, again, if he was absolutely sure he did not want to join them downstairs, perhaps apologize to Caiti, Marlowe ignored his question yet again and asked, "Can Evelyn come up here?"
Sean frowned, surprised by this. Marlowe understood. He and Evelyn had never talked much before. But after their late night conversation recently, he had begun to wonder why not. She was really very sweet. He was not sure he'd ever met someone who was more patient.
"Uh... yeah," said Sean. "Probably."
"Can you get her for me?" Marlowe asked.
Sean paused again, taking a step towards the door. "Yeah, alright."
He returned a few minutes later with Evelyn, who smiled at him and said, "Hey, Marlowe. What's up?"
"I wanna talk to you," he said. He glanced at Sean, feeling awkward. "Alone, if that's okay..."
"Oh," said Sean. They looked at each other. Marlowe didn't know what to say, so he just didn't. Sean looked at Evelyn who gave him a nod that it was okay, and then he left.
When the door was shut, Evelyn bent one leg behind her onto Sean's bed and sat down on top of it.
"You wanna talk about Caiti?" she asked.
"Well... yeah," he said. She waited patiently. He thought she would make a good therapist. She knew when to say something and when to just wait. Marlowe took a long time to gather his thoughts. He stared at his knees. "I messed up," he said finally.
"You did," she agreed.
"I was an idiot," he said.
"Yes," said Evelyn.
"A big one."
She smiled, tipping her head to one side.
"I think Caiti hates me, and I don't know what to do. Evelyn, I'm- I'm so embarrassed about it. I didn't mean- I mean, did you... did you hear?"
She nodded. "I think everyone did," she said quietly.
"Crap," said Marlowe. He put his face in his hands and squeezed his eyes shut tight.
When he did not start talking again, Evelyn leaned forward and said, "Marlowe, look at me."
He peeled his hands away and looked at her. Her blue eyes were intense, but still kind.
"Listen. You were a bit of an idiot, I'm not going to sugar coat it. You were rude and unkind, and you yelled which her scared her. You said some stuff that really hurt. And Marlowe, she told me she made that potion for you and you-" Marlowe gave her a look of skepticism and she interrupted herself to say, "I didn't know until last night either. I don't think she told anyone what she was up to. Anyway, she worked really hard to learn how to do that, and you didn't even say thank you."
Marlowe felt that hot shame creeping in again. He knew all of this. He had thought it himself. But hearing someone else say it was much, much worse. "I don't think you're going to be able to just win her over again right away," said Evelyn. "But," she added, in a much lower tone, "she definitely doesn't hate you."
"At this point," said Marlowe, "that's not very reassuring."
Evelyn smiled again. He did not understand why she kept doing that. Smiling was the last thing he felt like doing.
Evelyn laughed at the look of disgust he was giving her. "Just say you're sorry, okay? That's all you can do, for now. That and give her some time."
Marlowe sighed and looked away from her. To apologize to Caiti felt like a bigger hurdle than facing one of Sean's Triwizard Tasks. He did not think he would be able to look her in the eye, he was so embarrassed by what he had said to her.
"You'll get through it, Marlowe," she said.
Later that night, when Sean came up to go to bed, Marlowe followed him into the bathroom and stood in front of one of the sinks, staring at his own ghoulish reflection. He was nearing forty eight hours without sleep and the bags under his eyes were puffier than ever.
"What's it like," Marlowe asked, "when you talk to Evelyn about like... disagreements and things?" he asked. His voice echoed a little off the tile in the room. Sean spit out his toothpaste and smirked.
"She tell you everything you did wrong?" he asked.
Marlowe nodded.
"Yeah, she does that. She doesn't lie to you if you messed up. But she never raises her voice at you either. I don't know how she does it. She's so patient."
"I don't get her," said Marlowe, frowning at his reflection. He ran a hand through his hair. "How can she just tell you you're the worst person ever and you still don't feel mad at her?"
Sean laughed. "She only tells you what's true. It's what you already know. So you can't be mad if you agree with her. Makes you feel like crap though."
"Yeah it does," said Marlowe.
Sean started to head back to the bedroom. Marlowe followed. "Hey," Sean said, "are you... gonna talk to her soon?"
Marlowe could not look at him. He knew that however well Sean was hiding it, he was not happy with Marlowe. He was protective of Caiti. Marlowe was glad of it, actually.
"I'm going to try," he said. He hoped it was true.