| A L P H A |
July 1997
FIND RHEA. The instructions Dumbledore had written in his letter echoed on in my mind as I travelled. I had apparated as far as I had been able and upon exhausting my werewolf self from constant running through the forests and hills and mountains, I was now walking.
Excluding the urgency of my mission, casually strolling like this was kind of enjoyable. I had liked being outdoors long before becoming a werewolf; as a child I would spend hours laying on my back, watching the clouds and shaping them in my mind's eye to become dragons or sea creatures. At night, when the stars were out in full force, I would count them, the soft rustling of the grass lulling me to sleep.
Now everything was clearer, especially my sense of smell. I embraced the perfume of the wildflowers as the wind carried it to me. Even with the smallest inhale, it felt as if I breathed the petals deep into my lungs. I could see the sunlight boring down on the treetops, scattering golden rays downward, never quite touching the forest floor, although if it did the undergrowth of moss and roots glimmered a brilliant emerald green. The earth moved differently beneath my feet, in a way I had never chosen to take account of before — like I was being embraced, welcomed as a force of nature.
I loved it.
This is what he wanted you to understand, something at the back of my mind whispered. Everything good and worthwhile that exists within a world that also holds so much evil and destruction.
When he looked at you, it didn't matter what was happening. This is what he saw.
To the very end, this was it.
My fingers closed around the petals of a wildflower, too tightly, and liquid dribbled down my wrist to the ground. It took me a moment to realize it was merely the juice drained from the vibrant red petals, not blood.
I had gotten so used to blood on my hands. And maybe this was why I was being reminded of Sirius, here, in the forest. I had geared myself to see one thing and one thing only; chaos. But he was reminding me there was more, more than haunting and fear and blindness to the truth. I just had to lift the curtain and refocus — see the petals instead of the blood, see the beauty in the scars, see how close I was to a bare chest—
I stumbled backwards. I had been too distracted to notice what was directly ahead of me.
A man.
A half-naked man.
He looked incredibly suspicious of me, they all did. The collective 'they' had just appeared, mostly materializing from thin air. They came out of the brush, as one with the greenery as I felt. I should have felt afraid, should've felt the back of my neck prickling and suggesting that this was wrong. But I stood my ground.
"I know what you are. I'm just like you." My eyes scanned them, faces which were both young and old, bodies of all shapes and sizes, claws subtly shown to me that they would attack if provoked. Possibly, even if they weren't.
The man, whose dark brown hair was wildly mussed across his head, bent down to glare at me. He held himself tall like the leader he was built to be, as he was stocky with broad shoulders and muscular limbs. "Not just like us."
My hand twitched at my side, where my wand rested at my hip. He was right. I had brought it with me not as much for protection as I did because it was an extension of myself.
I was the witch and the werewolf both, and I could see plainly that the group surrounding me now didn't trust me for it.
Like every time before now, fear seized me, chilling my bones, but I forced myself to think through the horror of how wrong this situation could turn. Dumbledore had sent me because he thought I could handle this.
No, not thought. He did it because he knew I could. I couldn't let him down, nor could I let down Harry. He was somewhere with Ron and Hermione battling far more horrifying things than I was; they were only children. I could talk to some werewolves.
I know you will make the Wizarding World proud.
With one deep breath in, I leapt back into the ring. "I'm a witch. I was turned into a werewolf, and Albus Dumbledore sent me to warn you of Voldemort—"
"What do we care for some petty wizard war? It does not concern us." The man leaned closer, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face.
It took everything in me not to lean back and grimace. "Voldemort wants a purified wizarding world as his first priority but what do you think he'll do next? Werewolves aren't exactly favoured by anyone. He will have all of you hunted after the war, and I want to prevent that."
I couldn't tell if I was appealing to anyone, their faces were blank except for the man wearing the sneer in front of me. As he went to say something in response, I decided to interrupt. Rhea was supposed to be here, she was the leader, not this arrogant piece of work.
"I want to speak with Rhea."
A rumble of whispers sprang up then, as other werewolves in the crowd turned to each other and looked between the man and I. All of their whispering came down to one thing, her name; Rhea.
"Let's speak."
Her voice, crisp and authoritative, came from behind me. I turned on my heel, away from the man, to see her. The crowd, which extended all around, parted for her instantly, bowing their heads in reverence. Even though I had just met her, I could sense why they respected her; it came off of her in waves, the confidence, the security. She cared about her people, she was their protector.
As she took a moment to survey me and determine my trustworthiness, I did the same, although I was certain I was far more stunned by her than she was by me. After all, I was no goddess.
She was all earth tones. There was deep clay red woven into the unruly curls of her dark brown hair. Though she had braided some of it back from her temples, the majority of her hair reached down to her willowy waist, swaying in the gentle wind. Her eyes were a clear green, bright as the leaves of the trees, set off further by her chocolate skin. There was nothing imperfect about her, not even the twin white claw marks, jagged as they stretched from beneath the eye all the way to her jaw.
The faded denim jacket she wore was too large on her, but she'd rolled the sleeves up, and looked good in it anyway. The collar on the coat was up so I couldn't see her bite mark, but I knew it was there. Mine was prickling, like my werewolf side knew that she had found others of her own kind; acceptance.
"I'm here—" I started, once Rhea's gaze had travelled from the ground back up to my eyes. We stared directly into each other; skin, organs, souls.
"I heard why you are here. And I know of the impending war."
That was all she said before she stopped and waited for me to continue, but I was stumped. She hadn't given me much to work with. "If you know of it, you know you're in danger."
She looked at me curiously, one side of her mouth pulling upwards in a slight smirk. "I know you would have us fight on your side, and some of our ranks would perish. I know that you believe we would be caught unaware by Voldemort and his forces, but Gabriel is right," she gestured to the burly man I had run into. "You are also not one of us, not truly. You do not know what we can stand."
I hadn't expected for Rhea to be even more difficult to deal with than Gabriel. How was I supposed to convince her that there was no other choice, when she made excellent points? Suggesting that some of her people dying was impossible to avoid wouldn't gain me any favour; it would be like calling them collateral damage and that definitely wouldn't go down well.
I wracked my brain for what I could say and I was suddenly startled by an old memory, of when I was still enrolled in Hogwarts. I could see it, playing out before me now.
The sky; dark. The forest; quiet. Him; in perfect definition with his windblown hair and stormy eyes, getting worked up over how much he cared about me, when I still wouldn't admit it to myself.
We had argued over my lie about saying I was fine after Mulciber's gang had attacked me, and then I had kissed Sirius and he'd kissed me back and it had unleashed everything I never knew I wanted.
I could hear him, all around me. "You're a firecracker, Cassandra. You're powerful with or without claws and a bite that condemns."
Sirius, always uplifting me, giving me strength when I needed it most. I let my eyelids flutter closed, as another memory leapt into action. I didn't care how odd it seemed. I wanted to remember him, no matter how painful.
The new scene was the trailer park, when he gave me the crown. I still had it, all of these years later, although it was currently in Remus's house for safekeeping, until the war was over.
Sirius had kissed my head and whispered, "wear your fears as a crown. Control them instead of letting them control you."
And, the part that both broke my heart and was the reason it beat in the first place; "I'm yours. Forever."
A tear slipped down my cheek when I opened my eyes to face Rhea again. She was just waiting, patiently, for me to continue trying to draw her to my side. But I had a new angle: the unfortunate, unfiltered truth.
"I have no compelling reason for you to join the war. In fact, I'm no hero. I ran away from everything in my life, over and over, because I couldn't come to terms with being a werewolf. I killed a girl." The whispers started up again, but Rhea's raised hand brought the crowd back to silence. Her eyes were steady on my own, urging me on. "And I've hated myself ever since. I ran from my family, my friends, the love of my life... I got him killed too. I'm reckless and unstable and I'm not entirely sure if I would be leading you into any less of a slaughter than if you allied yourselves with Voldemort."
When I paused, I glanced at Rhea, who I'd trained my gaze away from so I could say my piece, and she was still waiting. Everyone was, even Gabriel. I could feel anticipation thrumming through the forest. Did they actually want to hear what I had to say?
If they did or if they didn't, it didn't matter. I continued. "But I care. I want to beat back the darkness, instead of embracing it. So... yeah," I shuffled my feet back and forth, to relieve the tension in my bones, "that's all I have to say."
Rhea stepped forward. A moment later, she extended her hand and I stared at it, half in amazement. That crappy speech about my life had worked?
"You have courage," she said as she wrapped her hand around mine, warm and soft. The werewolves were slowly coming closer, beckoned on by their leader. They seemed more receptive to me now; one little girl was even smiling at me.
"Does that mean..." I trailed off, afraid to hope.
"We will need to convene a council but," Rhea's words hung in the air unfinished and I realized she was waiting for my name.
"Cassandra." The way I said it didn't sound like Sirius, but I could feel the way I had when he used to say it; young and hopeful and beautiful and happy. "I'm Cassandra."
"I think the odds are in your favour," Rhea murmured, as she led me through the forest, where the sun shone down more brightly. When the light hit me, bright and golden like it had been in that hotel room with Sirius, I smiled.
For once, I actually thought they were too.
~~~
New chapter! (I think it's my favourite so far)
I'm trying to upload more regularly now that I know exactly where I want to go with this story but I still have school sooo it might be another week before another chapter (unless I do another tonight; I do love writing about how much Sirius and Cassie love each other)
Also, I AM going to do a James Potter fanfic. It's called Lacuna and it's very early in the works right now, but I wanted to share that I'm doing it — and hopefully it'll be happier.
Also also, I know werewolf packs aren't a thing in Harry Potter but I looked it up after I did it and this had kinda been my plan all along so... oops? It's a slight break with the story but I hope you guys are okay with it.
❤️ I wish everyone a great day! ❤️
CK