NOTHING GIRL || Remus Lupin

-Forty Six: Plot Device-

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

Remus felt everything that made him human slip away, and for the first time, he let it. He embraced the concept of becoming something other than everything he had thought he loved. It was him, and not the wolf, that declared war on the silvery coin, shining full in the night sky. It was him who tore the front door off the Shrieking Shack, it was him who sunk his claws into the earth below him, and growled in satisfaction as the dirt parted way for him.

It was him who pounded the way to the Forbidden Forest, the scent of something human in the air. There was an itch at the back of his mind, a muted warning about the Forest, but he was too far gone to pay it any heed.

Remus Lupin ran into the Forbidden Forest, howling the whole way.

...............................

Helia's foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the front steps of Hogwarts. She had been there for hours, she had been too tired to sleep, or do anything but sit and wait for Remus Lupin to re-emerge from the Whomping Willow.

The extra hours of sitting and thinking about all the things that could go wrong were not working wonders for the nerves that she could feel building slowly inside her, making her fingers itch and her stomach tighten. Her throat was closing, locking off any oxygen. Her hands were closed into fists, cutting little half moon scars into her palm.

She felt her something at the back of her mind flip over as the first rays of sun kissed her cheeks, leaving her dizzy and confused. Something was wrong.

Helia stood up and walked, a little faster than anything that would be considered 'casual'. She raced up the stairs to the Gryffindor dormitory, corridors and stones of Hogwarts turning into a blurring background to the idea of Remus being in Gryffindor Tower. Never had she ever ignored the humming in the stones, or not answered the sparks of magic flickering beneath the walls.

She made it to the Sixth Floor and bent over double in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, gasping for breath.

"Well, hello there," The Fat Lady said, "Here's someone who hasn't been to see me in a long time."

"I'm sorry, miss." Helia begged, desperation tinging her tone so much that she almost forgot to add a polite 'miss' to the end of her speech, "But I need to see James Potter. I need-"

"Now why would I do anything for you?" The Fat Lady said, and Helia had the impression that anything she said would go right over the woman's head, "I'll tell you what I think; you only come here when you want something, that's what I think. You've changed, girl, I'll add that on for free."

"I'm sorry," Helia choked out, "But you don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand." The painting proclaimed, the non-literal picture of drama, "Do you know what it's like being hung up here, and all you do is open and close? 'Oh hello Miss McKinnon, and how are you today? Oh, that's okay, don't answer me. Just snap the password and walk right past.'" She sniffed dismissively, "Children these days. No manners."

"I promise you," Helia said, dangerously close to begging, "I will be back here every single night all Seventh Year if you just let me in now."

"No." the Fat Lady pulled herself up, looking down at Helia over the rim of the glass of red wine that she had no doubt stolen from The Last Supper, filled to the brim with righteous energy. "I'm better than that. I don't need to forgive you. In fact, the Girl with a Pearl Earring and Woman with Fan are having a girl's night tonight over at The Birth of Venus's shell. So, I didn't need you anyway."

At that moment the portrait door was flung open and Lilly Evans emerged, face flushed with anger.

"Severus, I swear if that's you-" she stopped when she saw Helia. Helia guessed that the surprised look on Lilly's face was all that could be expected, given her position, half bent in desperation in front of the portrait, hands clutched as if in prayer. "Oh. Hi."