"You know, not all Slytherins are Death Eaters,"
Slytherins are depicted as stuck-up, conniving, Gryffindor hating Death Eater purebloods who don't share any compassion for anyone or anything. Well, most of them.
Holland Lux is different, she's kind...
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DECEMBER 1981
• • • •
Over the last couple of weeks, laughter seemed to be a rare occurrence in Hollyhock Cottage.
Conversations became less and less.
The joy, love and happiness that the house had held before was slowly being sucked away.
Holland walked into Nora's bedroom, where the girl was taking a nap, and her father - who had fresh scratches across his face - was watching her as she did so.
"Rem?" Holland tentatively called out to her fiancé.
Remus slowly turned his head, looking at her, before his gaze went back to his daughter.
"Such a beautiful creature," He whispered, his voice hoarse, "To come from a monster."
Holland's face fell, "Rem," She whispered, sitting down next to him, "What happened last night-"
"Is what happens when James, Sirius and Peter aren't there." Remus cut her off.
"Was an accident." Holland corrected him.
Remus just sighed, putting his head in his hands.
"Holland. I hurt her."
"No. You didn't," Holland told the boy, taking his hand in her own and forcing him to look at her. The Irish girl let out a soft sigh, gently running her fingers over the scars that he had caused on himself the night before, "When the full moon is up. that's not you. Anything that happens is not your fault."
"Holly," Remus whispered, his voice breaking, "We both know that my senses were sending me here. We're lucky Maggie got in the way before I got here. And I hurt her."
"It could've been a lot worse." Holland told him, the couple keeping their voice quiet as not to wake the sleeping infant next to them.
"Exactly," Remus nodded, "It could've been a lot worse. I could've killed her. Or, I could've made it here and hurt Nora or Reggie."
"But you didn't." Holland stressed.
"But I easily could have," Remus sighed, more tears starting to fall, "I don't want to hurt my family. I don't want to be a murderer."
Holland look at the man she loved with deep sympathy, "Oh, Rem." She whispered, pulling the sobbing werewolf into a tight embrace.
***
"But this wasn't his fault." Margaret said, as she and Holland sat in her living room, the older girl gently taking the bandage off of the wound on the blonde's arm.
"I know that," Holland nodded, "And you know that. So does Remus, deep inside. But he doesn't want to believe it."
"Why?"
"He's always had this belief that what he becomes makes him a monster. Unworthy of love." Holland said sadly.
"That couldn't be further from the truth." Margaret shook her head.
"That's what I've been telling him for years." Holland sighed, as she fully unwrapped the bandage on the Hufflepuff girl's arm.
Across the lower part of Margaret's left arm were three scratches, the red blood contrasting against her pale skin.
"Looks painful." Holland noted, beginning to clean and rewrap the wound.
"It was at first," Margaret hummed, "Not as much anymore. Please be sure to tell Remus that."
Holland nodded, "I will."
The fire crackling was the only sound in the room, as the Irish girl wrapped a clean bandage around the wound, smiling in triumph once she had finished.
"There."
"Thanks," Margaret said with a small smile, analysing her friend's odd facial expression, "Are you okay, Holly?"
"There's something I need you to help me with."
***
"Remus!" Holland called as she entered the quiet cottage.
Regulus and Nora were currently with her parents, so it was just them in the house.
"Remus?" She called again, taking off her coat.
Not finding him anywhere downstairs, Holland eyebrows creased in confusion, before she made her way upstairs.
"Rem, I have something to tell you!"
He wasn't in Regulus' room.
Nor was he in Nora's.
Growing increasingly worried Holland checked the last room in the house. Their bedroom.
The room was clean, the bed made, where a piece of parchment lay, messy handwriting scribbled onto it.
With shaky hands, Holland picked up the piece of parchment, carefully reading each word, tears pouring out of her dark eyes.
After rereading it for the third time, Holland raced downstairs, picking up the phone and hysterically dialling a familiar number, a sickening sense of déjà vu overcoming her.
"Hello?"
"Maggie." Holland choked on a sob.
"Holly?" Margaret asked in immense worry.
"I need you."
"What happened?"
"He's gone, Maggie. He's gone."
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