Atropos → george weasley

xxviii. atropos

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twenty eight

atropos

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A moth.

A fucking moth represented Ottilie's essence as a person.

How humiliating could it get? She'd spent the better part of two and a half years risking life and limb and expulsion to become an Animagus, and it turned out she was a damn moth.

She decided she ought to identify which kind of moth she was. She didn't have near-encyclopedic knowledge as her mother did, but she could identify a few.

First, she flew up to check her reflection in the window. Moths had near three-hundred sixty-degree vision, so she could fly with her back to the glass and see what her wings looked like.

Her forewings were brown, though speckled with amber and ivory, like the surface of black coffee just after pouring a bit of cream in—the hind wings were a dull canary yellow with black stripes. But what really stood out to her was something on the back of her thorax. There was a white pattern that looked like a human skull.

She didn't need to have an entomologist as a mother to identify what species of moth she was.

She had seen this moth before on the film poster of Silence of the Lambs.

The death's-head hawkmoth. Judging by her size, the African death's-head hawkmoth.

In the film, it was the serial killer's calling card. Outside of the film, it was widely considered a bad omen amongst essentially every culture it was native to. A portent of war, pestilence, grave misfortune. An omen of death.

A symbol of supernatural evil.

Of course that was what her Animagus form was. Of course.

She supposed the fact she could now hang upside down from the ceiling by her feet was cool, though.

Eventually, she decided it was time to transform back. She was nervous about experiencing that excruciating pain, but she obviously couldn't be a moth forever.

She landed back on the ground. How were you supposed to do this?

Can I be human again? She thought in her head.

Suddenly, the room was shrinking.

She found herself kneeling on the ground, staring down at her very human hands. That was easier—and a lot less painful—than expected. She anticipated having to try a little harder.

Weakly, she got to her feet again and glanced at her watch. A small shock of terror went through her heart when she saw that it was in the middle of the night, well past curfew.

She supposed she didn't have a chance to do a trial run with her Animagus form now. There was no way she wouldn't get into serious trouble with Snape if she didn't return to her common room in moth form.

Carefully, she left the lab. Then, after ensuring the coast was clear, she thought, back into a moth now, please. It felt a bit silly, but it worked. The world blurred around her, and soon she was standing on the floor with all six legs.

She took a moment to examine the staircase chamber. She could now clearly make out paintings hanging high up on the wall that had been impossible to see before.

Before she had even registered danger, her wings began to flutter, and she was rising in the air. Though her back was faced to her, Ottilie's inhuman range of sight allowed her to see that Mrs. Norris snuck up and swatted at her.