Different

midnight runs

"Claire, what are you doing with that?"

Claire looked down at the random paintbrush that she had grabbed with confusion clear in her face. Remus, Sirius, and Lyall all looked at her with concern clear on their faces as she randomly walked outside and interrupted their conversation, a random paintbrush in her hand. The wind blew her hair away from her face and made her exhaustion evident to the men.

"I...I thought it was my broomstick," Claire admitted, her voice soft. Remus and Sirius shared a look while Remus grabbed her hand to make her sit down. She twirled the used paintbrush in her hand and observed it. It was old and hadn't been used in a few years, the bristles so dry they wouldn't be usable.

"This was your grandmother's," Lyall explained gently. "I honestly don't know how you found it. I locked them up after she passed away."

"How did you find them?" Remus asked.

"I don't know," Claire admitted. "I don't remember grabbing it."

Her brain fog seemed to grow as her physical injuries healed. She still had a constant headache and she found herself in more and more situations where she didn't know where she was or what she was saying. They were at Lyall's house because she started randomly walking at three in the morning, scaring Remus and Sirius to death. She demanded to see her grandfather which was why they had showed up at his house in their pajamas at almost three am.

"Why don't you go to a healer?" Lyall questioned again.

"Dumbledore doesn't want news to get out about her," Sirius sighed, letting Claire lean into his side. Another side effect was exhaustion, so she was almost always asleep. Sirius and Remus were barely sleeping with worry, which was clear to Lyall as he observed the family in front of him with worry.

"It's not worth this," Lyall argued. "So what if she's the child of two werewolves? What's the big deal?"

"There's more that we haven't told you," Remus said softly. The two men had respected Claire's wishes and not told anyone that didn't need to know. The school heard that she simply slipped and hit her head, and that was the same story that Lyall got.

"So tell me," Lyall pleaded. "In case the two of you forgot, she's my granddaughter too. I met her two times before all of this mess and I lived for years only hearing stories. And now she randomly wants to come to my house and she's sick like this? She didn't just hit her head. You need to let me in."

"We can't," Sirius admitted, his voice harsher than he intended. He was always scared to speak up to Lyall because the man had helped take care of him after he ran away from home, and he repaid the man by being sent to Azkaban. Lyall hadn't forgotten or forgiven the prank that Sirius pulled on Snape either. "I'm sorry, Lyall. I've fought to tell you. But it seems that Dumbledore thinks he knows best, and I do agree that the less people who know, the better."

"I just want my granddaughter to be happy," Lyall said softly, a frown on his face as he observed how fast she had fallen asleep.

"I know, Dad. That's all I want too, but there's bigger forces in play that I can't even pretend to understand. Just trust us," Remus pleaded. Lyall didn't look happy but he nodded anyways, his face showing how displeased and worried he was.

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"I don't like this place."

"Me either."

Remus sighed sadly as he observed his family and their unhappy expressions as they stepped into what would be their home for the foreseeable future.

"It's to keep us safe," Remus reminded them.