(Ten: To Break in a Glove)

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Alex Fawley had never gotten on well with words.

They tripped and fell as they came out of her mouth, invaded and supplemented with 'er's and 'um's. On paper, they rearranged themselves into tangles of alphabet soup, refusing to lie down still so that she could process them. The only place they stayed safe and well-organised was inside her mind, and Alex sometimes thought that they were more trapped in there, banging and clanking on the sides of her skull to get loose.

Alex used to have dreams- nightmares really- about being trapped inside her own body, screaming and crying for someone to let her out, but no one could hear her. And while she bashed at her own insides for release, the muscles and tendons and skin that made up her cheeks perked up in a rosy smile, and people smiled back, as if they couldn't see that her eyes were screaming.

She had moved past those dreams long ago, and only remembered them occasionally now. This was one of those times. Stepping out of the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, and knowing that her face would tell anyone who saw her that she was a different girl than just a few nights ago, inviting staring eyes and hushed whispers. Knowing that would happen, Alex could feel a pounding on her chest again, but it wasn't the constant pump of her heart, it was those hands fashioned into fists, hammering and begging to be let out, let out, because what they saw would not be her. It would be a monster.

That's what a werewolf was: A monster. Everyone knew it. And Alex wasn't enough of an anything to be a bloody functioning human being, let alone a monster. Still that pounding, like the scars that laced her skin as icing did on a cake, didn't let up for one moment.

"Get to it, Girl! I don't have time to babysit you all day!" Madame Pomfrey's business-like bustle broke through Alex's rather obsessive staring contest with the door.

"Right. Yeah. Sorry." Alex swallowed, and took another few steps forwards. Why did the door have to be so big? It couldn't just be the little old bedroom deal, could it? No, it was an enormous mahogany affair, with fancy little swirls and engravings and everything. One had to be mentally prepared to deal with a door like that, and Alex Fawley was many things, but mentally prepared was not one of them.

She reached towards the handle, and wished that she had the time to counteract the shaking in her fingertips, but Madame Pomfrey would soon re-emerge from her office, and a girl caught stuck staring at the door would only raise even more eyebrows.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Bracelet. Camera. Necklace.

"Troops! Assemble!" A familiar voice barked fake orders from behind the door. Alex couldn't quite figure out where she had heard that voice before. There was a sharp knock on the other side of the wood. Alex flinched, "Miss Fawley, your subjects await!" 

Slowly, hesitantly, aided in her cause by curiosity, Alex pushed open the door. It creaked atrociously, unoiled hinged screeching their symphonies into her ears; Shouldn't have done that!

On the other side, four boys stood waiting for her. There was Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, not one of them looking at all surprised to see her there.

Sirius stepped forward, smirk twitching up the corner of his lip. He nodded to the rucksack filled with camera equipment that Alex had hooked over her shoulder, "Found it then?"

"Found... I'm sorry, I... Um," Alex suddenly became aware of the scars lining her face. C'mon, Logan. Where are you? In desperate search of an ally, Alex made eye contact with Remus over Sirius's shoulder, trying to convey her panic with her eyes alone. You said you'd help me. Help me. Please.

Remus coughed subtly, "We, er, we thought you wouldn't want to go to class alone today."

"I'll be fine." Alex's voice was tiny. What she meant to say was: Thank you. Thank you. How the hell did you know? Thank you.

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