Complications From Lycanthropy
an excerpt

“Don’t you understand? I don’t want her!” Edwina shouted. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she clamped her hand over her lips, and dug into her pockets looking for an handkerchief. Dr. Razvan shook his wand so that one fell from the tip, and handed it to her. “I... I know I’m a terrible mother. I know I shouldn’t feel this way. But I do. I have ever since it happened. As long as my husband was all right, I didn’t say anything. Samantha’s been so dear to him. But I... I can’t be around her alone! She frightens me! I don’t want to be alone with her!”
Dr. Razvan stood silently for several long moments as she sobbed into the conjured handkerchief. “Mrs. Delven, if you truly feel that way, if you’re not just upset over the accident, perhaps you should contact the Ministry’s Family Services division and see about placing her in foster care. It may be a healthier situation for both you and her.”
*****
“There, I think that’s all of it,” Edwina said with forced cheerfulness as she laid a set of pajamas on top of the other child-sized contents of a traveling trunk and closed the lid. Samantha watched her silently from the bed, hugging a teddy bear to her chest. “Can you think of anything I’ve forgotten?”
Samantha shook her head without a word.
“Well, what do you say we head downstairs and wait?” Edwina asked, pointing her wand at the trunk. It gently floated into the air. “Come on, honey.”
Samantha obediently climbed off the bed and followed the trunk down the steps as her mother directed it from behind. They turned into the living room, and Samantha climbed up onto the sofa, staring at the back of her bear’s head.
“It’ll only be for a little while,” Edwina said. “Just until your father gets better.” Samantha nodded slightly, still staring, and then the doorbell rang.
Glad for the distraction, Edwina went to answer the door. Standing outside was a tall, lean but muscular man in a charcoal grey robe over black trousers. His long, black-streaked grey hair was pulled into a tight cavelier ponytail at the base of his neck, and a neatly trimmed Van Dyke goatee accented rather handsome features.
“Good afternoon. I think you were expecting me,” he said hoarsely, holding up an ID badge with the words “Family Services Division” written at the top.
“Oh yes, come right in,” she said, opening the door wider. “You’re a little earlier than I expected, but that’s fine. Sounds like you’ve caught that cold that’s been going around.”
He nodded as he stepped inside. “I’m mostly over it, I think, but I’m afraid it is still affecting my voice.” He walked over to Samantha and easily knelt down to her level. “Hello. You must be Samantha.” She looked up at him and nodded silently. He pointed to her bear. “And what is this gentleman’s name?”
“Mr. Wiggles,” she said softly.
He gently took the bear’s paw with his long fingers and shook it slightly. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wiggles. I’m pleased to make your acquaintence.”
As a thin, tight smile crossed Samantha’s face, Edwina glanced out the door, then looked up and down the street. “I would have thought you’d bring a car,” she remarked, closing the door.
The gentleman looked up at her. “We generally prefer portkeys for this sort of thing. A long car trip can be very hard on a child on top of everything else.” He turned back to Samantha. “Have you ever travelled by portkey before?”
Samantha nodded. “We went to a Quidditch League Championship once, and we took a portkey there.”
“Who was playing that year?”
“Puddlemere United and the Holyhead Harpies.”
“And who did you root for?”
“The Harpies. They won, too.”
“That’s good. I like the Harpies, too,” he said with a wink. He looked up at Edwina. “Would you two like a chance to say good-bye?”
“Oh, um...” Edwina hestitantly stepped over and leaned over her daughter. “You’ll be good for the nice people who are going to take care of you, right?” Samantha nodded, and Edwina patted her head twice. She should do something more. She should hug her, or kiss Samantha on the forehead or something, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do so. Instead she turned to the gentleman from the Ministry. “Do you need any help with the trunk?”
“No, I think I can get it. Come along with me, please, Samantha.” He went to the trunk and knelt beside it, and Samantha slowly followed him to it. From his pocket he pulled a small child’s ballet slipper and set it on top of the trunk, keeping his hand on it. “This is our portkey. You’ll be an old hand at this. What we’ll do is this: I’ll hold tight on to your trunk, and you hold tight on to Mr. Wiggles, and whenever you’re ready, you just touch this and we’ll be on our way. Do you understand?” Samantha nodded, and he took a good grip on the handle of her trunk. “All right, then. Whenever you’re ready.”
Samantha looked back at her mother. “Good-bye, Mum,” she said, her throat tight.
“Good-bye, honey. You be good.” Edwina gave a slight wave with her fingers. Samantha looked back at the ballet slipper, then squeezing her bear tightly, reached out and touched it, and they were gone with a whoosh of air.
Edwina wasn’t sure how or what to feel at first. Part of her was relieved; that much she expected. But part of her couldn’t help but wonder, had she done the right thing? Should she have tried a little harder? She should have given it a chance, alone with just her and Samantha? Trying to push those questions aside, she bent over to pick up a few pieces of paper that had been blown off of the coffee table when they left, and set to tidying up the living room a little bit.
And then the doorbell rang.
Raising an eyebrow, she went to the front door and answered it. A curvy woman in a blue robe held up an ID badge. “Hi, ma’am. I’m Glinda Hodgeson with the Family Services Division.”
“Yes...?”
“You were expecting me, weren’t you?”
Edwina blinked. “Did that gentleman who was just here forget something?”
“What gentleman?”
“A gentleman from your division was just here to pick up Samantha.”
Glina grasped her wrist, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Is he still here?”
“No. They just left a few minutes ago.”
With a hard swallow, Glinda stepped inside and looked around. “What did he say his name was?”
“He, um... Well, I guess he didn’t actually give his name,” Edwina admitted. She tried to picture what was on the badge, but the words wiggled and squirmed in her memory, refusing to sit still long enough for her to read them again. “I just assumed, since his badge said ‘Family Services Division’... Ms. Hodgeson, who just took my daughter?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, ma’am. Could you describe what he looked like for me?”
“He was pretty tall, maybe...” She held her hand up above her head. “Grey hair with some black streaks, and a beard. One of those pointed ones.”
“What about his voice?”
“His voice?”
Glinda nodded. “What did it sound like?”
“Well, he didn’t talk very loudly. He said he was getting over a cold, and it had left him a little hoarse.”
The blood drained from Glinda’s face. “Great Merlin’s beard. If... If you’ll excuse me for just a moment...” She pulled a mirror out of her pocket and stepped toward the kitchen for some privacy, but Edwina followed her. “Yes, I’m at the Delven house,” she said into it. “Could you send a couple of aurors down here, and maybe a counselor? I think... I think Greyback beat me here.”
“Greyback? Fenrir Greyback?” Edwina echoed, her eyes growing almost larger than their sockets could hold. “The murderer?”
“Ma’am, we can’t be sure yet,” Glinda assured her, tucking the mirror away again. “Some aurors will be here shortly, and they’re a lot more familiar with his case than I am.”
“But... But he was so polite!” It couldn’t be true. She couldn’t have been standing next to one of the most brutal criminals in history, she couldn’t have been. But who else would want to take Samantha? Oh God, what have I done?
*****
“Oops!” Fenrir darted forward and caught Samantha as the force of the portkey’s sudden stop sent her tumbling forward. The teddy bear flew out of her arms and landed in the soft wet grass, but he managed to keep her on her feet. “I’m sorry about that. I should have warned you we’d be landing somewhere soft.”
“That’s OK,” she said softly as he made sure she was steady. He picked up the bear for her and ran his wand along a blot of mud it had fallen in, sucking the dirt off.
“There you are, good as new,” he said, handing it back to her. He shook the bear’s paw lightly again and added “I’m sorry about that, Mr. Wiggles.”
Another tight, thin smile flitted across her lips. He pointed his wand at the trunk, and it floated into the air again.
“Are you up for a little bit of a walk?” he asked “It’s only about five minutes away.” She nodded, and he rested his hand on her back, gently guiding her across the damp patch of grass and into a nearby wood. They walked for several minutes, Fenrir guiding her through the trees, until they reached a small, empty clearing.
“The house is hidden,” Fenrir said, holding out his hand to her. “If you take my hand, you’ll be able to see it.”
Samantha reached up and slipped her little fingers into is, and a large, dark form faded into being in front of her. A house with three stories, made of wood weathered to a dull grey beneath peeling paint. Dark windows looked out like eyes, and she found herself shrinking against Fenrir nervously.
“I know it looks a little scary from the outside, but you’ll like it inside, I’m sure. Come on, let’s go in.”
He walked up the creaky front steps, gently pulling her along but not rushing her as her shorter legs tried to navigate them. The walked through the front door and a small mud room, into an open hallway. In front of them was a wooden staircase, and to their left a small living room with a threadbare old sofa and a couple of beanbag chairs around a tattered rug. Fenrir directed her trunk in there. “We’ll take care of your things a little later, all right?”
She nodded, and then shook a little and held her bear more tightly as a wind set off a series of creaks in the upper parts of the house. Fenrir chuckled slightly with a warm smile. “I guess it’s a little creepy inside, too, when it’s all quiet like this. But that’s only because my other children are still out and about. When everyone’s home this evening, you won’t notice anything else.”
“You have other kids, too?” she asked.
He nodded. “Two girls, and five boys. You’ve never had brothers and sisters before, have you?” She shook her head. “Well, they can get a little rambuctious at times, but I think you’ll like them. Here, I’ll show you around.” He pushed open a swinging door to the right of the staircase. “The kitchen is in here. Are you hungry at all?”
“No, sir. I had lunch at home.”
“Oh, please, call me Fenrir,” he said, letting the door swing closed again. “If you get hungry, just help yourself to anything in the icebox. Or let me know, and I’ll fix you something, all right?” She nodded, and he led her up the staircase to the second floor.
“This is my bedroom,” he said, pushing open the first door on the right, to the master bedroom. “If any time you feel sick or scared or just need to talk to me, you feel free to come right in here, all right? Even if it’s late at night.”
She nodded again, and he continued down the hallway, opening more of the doors. The next one had walls painted a bright blue, with an underwater scene painted on one wall. Tropical fish darted back and forth, ducking behind painted stalks of seaweed. “Edward and Luther share this room, and next door are Christavius, Gregor, and Eric.” He opened the second door, and inside was another blue-painted room. This time painted clouds floated by, and occassionally a dragon would fly through them. “My son Eric did these murals. They’re nice, aren’t they?”
“All by himself?” Sam asked softly.
“The other boys helped paint in the pencils he drew.” Fenrir chuckled softly. “In the second room, especially, they kept complaining about how quickly the dragons moved. There’s one that still has a patch of bare plaster on its stomach because they’ve never been able to catch it long enough to finish it. The girls laugh every time they see it.”
Placing a hand on her back again, he guided her across the hall and opened another room. This one had cream colored walls, and grass and flowers painted along the floorboard, waving back and forth gently in an imaginary wind as painted fairies went from blossom to blossom. Three beds were set up in here, and all of them had guazy faux canopies hanging from the ceiling. On the wall beside one was a poster for the Weird Sisters band; the other had a print of a violin and a rose in a bud vase, which gently bobbed its petals from time to time.
“Athena and Selena share this room,” Fenrir explained. “They set up a bed for you. You can have your own room if you like, but they thought you might at least want to share until you get used to all the creaks and groans of the house, if not longer.”
“Can I take a closer look?” Samantha asked softly.
“Of course. This is your home now. You can go wherever you like. Although the boys might protest if you get into their things.”
Samantha slowly stepped across the soft green carpet covering the floor; it gave off a slight smell of freshly cut grass with each step. Stopping in front of the bed that had been set up for her, she reached out and drew her fingers across the canopy. A warm, silky softness tickled her fingertips in return.
“These used to be four-posters,” Fenrir said, stepping in after her. “The girls wanted something a little lighter, so we transfigured them, but we can always change it again if there’s something you like better.”
Samantha pulled her hand back, squeezing Mr. Wiggles. “Mr. Fenrir,” she started, turning to face him.
“Just ‘Fenrir’,” he said softly.
“Fenrir, my mum said that I’d only be staying with you for a little while, until my dad got better. That... That’s not true, is it?”
“No, Sweetness, it isn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ll be living with me from now on.”
Her mouth tightened and turned downward as her eyes scrunched up and tears began welling in them, dribbling down her cheeks.
“Oh, come here, Sweetheart,” Fenrir said, kneeling in front her and reaching out his arms. He started to wrap them around her, and she dropped the bear and clung to his chest desperately as he enveloped her with a warm grasp.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “You’ve been so nice to me, I...”
“It’s all right, my dear. You don’t have to apologize. You have every right to be sad.” He held her tightly, rocking her gently back and forth. “You go ahead and cry all you want. Cry all you need to.”
*****
“My mother didn’t want me, so what does it matter? Fenrir did want me. He was the first person who had wanted me for a long time.”
Roma had both of her arms around Samantha now and was rubbing her shoulder reassuringly, as Julian had one of his own arms around her and dabbed at her eyes with a hanky. Even Gregor was gently stroking her hair from behind.
“I didn’t know there were situations like that,” Hermione said softly.