Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 27
- 28
- 29
Chapter 28

Incidentally, pizza could quite possibly be the single most obscure and delicious food item I have ever encountered. I hasten to add I only truly discovered this once both little Danny and Dale had spent much of their mealtime convincing me that I did not need a knife and fork. It has to be said that it was my young nephew’s enthusiasm that finally persuaded me. Somehow he had managed to get more tomato sauce over his face than actually in his mouth and he looked to be truly enjoying his meal. If only my father could see me now, descending into the barbaric and uncouth ways of the muggles. Forgoing the convention of cutlery, to break bread with my bare hands.

On the first morning I was left alone. I awoke to the gift of the sunrise, as normal, but remained in my room; gazing out of the window and watching the shadows shorten as the sunlight touched the earth.

It was strange, feeling the sun peak over the horizon, but not able to physically see it, feeling a pang in my chest to indicate the day had truly began. A daily ritual I have undertaken many times since I became a werewolf but I had never before done so surrounded by such silence. Hermione's even breathing was conspicuous by its absence. I knew I would miss her presence, her gentle comfort in the hours we would both be awake, but I honestly never thought I would crave the sights and sounds of her sleeping form in amongst the dawn chorus.

It is almost frightening to think how closely knit our lives have become that I cannot complete the simple task of rousing from my sleep without sparing a thought for her. A longing for the company of another, almost to the point of pain, is something I had not anticipated. The letters we share daily, hardly even quench the thrust and I can tell by the way she writes that she still worries about me, unimpeded by my attempts to calm her.

On that first day I didn't venture out until I heard the family clamber into one of the vehicles and leave the premises. At the time I thought they might have forgotten my presence. Now I wonder if they did it purposefully. Giving me time alone to become intimately accustomed to my new surroundings. Something I know I would have been unable to do under their supervision.

I hadn't been given any restrictions as to where I could venture so I explored the household. Learning it by touch as well as sight and smell. That was when I found what Rachel refers to as her study but I must agree with my brother, it is most defiantly a library. A small room crammed with bookcases all overflowing with texts of varying content. Fact and fiction, magical and muggle stood proudly, side by side. That small observation set the tone for the whole household.

Dale makes no secret of his magic from either his wife or the small boy. Entertaining them with both muggle illusions as well as intricately crafted spells from the tip of his wand at every opportunity. Everything about him is accepted by his family, even the short bursts of time he spends in recluse for no other reason than he needed solitude, a feeling I can sympathize with. I must have been at his home just over three days the first time it happened. I watched in silence as a shadow cast his features and amongst the bustle in his life he just stood from his chair and left the room. No one tried to stop him, no one followed. Just left him to get his thoughts in order and return in his own time. I'm certain they must have done that with me on more than one occasion, even if I cannot pin point an exact moment in time.

For years I had been convinced that someone like me isn't permitted the normalcies of everyday life. Since I have been old enough to walk and talk I have been trained to fight and die at the Dark Lords side. That was to be my lot in life. To serve my master in any way I could.

Being here, observing these people, not only makes me feel safe and wanted and needed but has also give me a vague hope that all of the things I have come to want in my life are available to me. All I have to do is reach out and take it, possibly even give part of myself away. I can serve up my heart to Hermione on a silver platter but I have yet to willingly share even one secret and the longer I spend in the presence of my brother – who has changed so much in such a short space of time with the support of his loved ones – the harder I find it to remember why I keep myself so guarded around her.

Young Danny is defiantly his father’s son from what I have seen. I had initially attempted to stay as far from the child as possible. Not feeling comfortable around anyone so young, I have the distinct fear that I might unintentionally break them, with how tiny and fragile they look. I hasten to add that both my upbringing and my very nature have left me with very little maternal instinct but none the less this boy took every opportunity to seek me out, directly disobeying his parents on more than one occasion. A fact that did, for a fleeting moment, have me fear for his safety, until he revealed the truth to his mother himself at the next meal. He received nothing more than a stern word and a seething look for the indiscretion. It did little to deter him.

He would find me in the most obscure of places and the most unusual times. Often waking even before I do, with such an abundance of energy and curiosity it threatens to leave me breathless. It is clear that he has learned much from Dale, some things that I wouldn’t class as altogether, desirable. Such as the habit of voicing his thoughts without inhibitions, often reverting to a previous subject when engaged in another, it is even more difficult to follow than when I speak to Ginny.

He is inquisitive by very nature and has become very interested in me. Asking question after question. It became apparent that the stories his father would tell him of his aunt and uncle, no matter how embarrassing they may be but were not enough to sate his curious mind. Once in a single breath me managed to enquire as to my younger brother James, my relationship with Hermione, the inner working of Quidditch and how it felt to be a werewolf.

That last question made the whole room fall silent and I could practically smell the nervous energy radiating in waves from the two adults. It wasn’t easy to brush off the tension setting over my being, reminding myself that he is just a child who has no way of knowing the stigma attached to my particular disorder, enough to answer him. His parents must have pulled him aside to chastise him over the matter for he never spoke of it again.

With Rachel's gently coaxing voice it didn't take me long to truly feel like one of the small, unorthodox family. She made no secret of the fact that trust is an important part of her profession. Something that muggles refer to as a therapist. From what I can understand it’s something along the lines of a medi-witch for your mental well-being, without magical intervention. The last part had me baffled for days, the inner workings of the human brain is largely a mystery to the magical world. Insanity, usually in its most violent form, is a strong reason to be ostracized. All of these things interest me for obvious reasons but I was still surprised when I approached her with regards to my fears of my mental health.

She'd been in the library, tapping away on that strange box which seems to obey her every command. That particular subjected I have steered away from after my embarrassing conversation with Daniel over the television. There are very few things in the world more degrading that having to listen to a four year old speak in a very slow voice encase you misunderstand him. Beaten only in the moment when you realise that you are listening to him with rapt attention, hoping that you might learn something useful.

She'd been so engrossed in her work that she hadn't noticed me at first. Though I must admit that I had been dubious to raise the topic of discussion with her, so it is entirely possible that my steps had been too quiet for her to perceive. However how she could have failed to hear my heart hammering against my breastbone I have no idea. Only when the door clicked behind me, did she glance up looking startled. “Jamie.” She said. Pulling her glasses from off her nose and folding the arms across the lenses. “I didn't hear you come in.”

I remember quite vividly being nervous and my body betrayed me. Without thought my hands rubbed together and I consciously averted my gaze from her questioning eyes with a softly mumbled. “Sorry.”

I could hear her smile from right across the room. “It's okay. Did you want to talk about something?” Every day since my arrival she has been able to pry some nugget of information from me with that simple phrase. Until now I had no idea how desperately I wished to speak to someone about what was going on inside my head.

Before I could lose my nerve I blurted “Yes.” Then ran my fingers through my newly cut hair. One of those bonding experiences that Dale had insisted upon. It's much shorter than I can ever remember it, which only makes it all the easier to run my hands through it whenever I have something on my mind. It's becoming a tell, one I know I should stomp out but cannot bring myself to try. “There's...” Then I did lose my nerve; breath halting halfway up my throat and stilling my tongue.

From the first moment she could read me like an open book and this time was no exception, she had immediately turned in her chair to give me her full attention. “What's the matter?”

I took a seat in one of the chairs, perching right on the edge and leaning my torso over my knees, looking down at my fidgeting hands as I listened to the gentle ticking of the clock. Trying to order the words I hadn't even contemplated speaking out loud until that moment. “I...” I remember shaking my head, thinking that the order I had chosen for my words to be stupid.

“It’s okay Jamie.” She said and I heard her place her glasses down at her desk. “Take your time.”

That was enough, the gentle assurance and acceptance of whatever I wanted to say. No matter how obscure it may be. “I have this...” I couldn't believe how hard this was. All I needed to do was open my mouth and speak but years of holding my tongue for fear of reprisal seized me. I literally had to force my next words to leave my throat. “A voice.” I know what I was saying didn't make any sense without a context and as I looked up at her I knew I would have to expand but the less I said the more I could convince myself it wasn't real. “In my head.”

I watched her face become expressionless and she leaned back in her chair, patently waiting for me to continue.

“I don't know if this sort of thing is strange to muggles...” My teeth gritted then, more in frustration at my own inability to put my fears into words than their actual content. Yet another argument with Ammy had prompted me to come down here so I knew her to be lurking deep within the confines of my mind, unable to see exactly what I was doing. “I'm sorry.” I dropped my head into my hands and wondered if sharing my feelings would ever get any easier.

“It's okay.” She said gently, not moving from her seat. “It's clear this is causing you some concern. When did it start?”

“A few weeks ago.” I left it there; I knew I wasn't in the correct frame of mind to explain to her how I called forth my Patronus.

“And you've kept this to yourself.” It wasn't a question. It should have been but she already knew. I still nodded to confirm. “What does it say to you?”

Now that was a loaded question. When I met her eyes I didn't know where to start, in the end I settled on. “We argue.”

That provoked a reaction. Her eyebrows lifted high on her forehead and I could see a thousand questions burning behind her eyes. She was quick to compose herself, blinking back her surprise. “What about?”

I felt a smirk lift the side of my mouth. “Everything. She just...”

For the first time since I had met her, she interrupted me. “She?”

“Yes.” I could feel a lump crawling up the inside of my throat and a single bead of cold sweat sliding along my spine. I didn't know if I had made a mistake by coming to my sister-in-law with this. We barely knew each other and I wasn't certain if that made her easier to talk to or not.

She cleared her throat but kept her composure. “Does she have a name?”

I nodded, not completely certain on how to pronounce her full name. “I call her Ammy.”

“Why?”

“Because it annoys her.” I answered with honesty, a trait I am beginning to enjoy. “We're constantly prodding at each other. Just trying to rile each other up.” At that point I couldn't tell if she was fearful of me or not.

“Is she listening to us now?” She asked.

“No.” I said while shaking my head. “Usually she does. It's like I can feel her, she watches things through my eyes.”

That seemed to confuse her but I couldn’t understand why. “But not now?”

I felt my shoulders bunch into a shrug. “We had another argument. She wants me to...” I smiled then, a snort of laughter under my breath. “She wants me to talk to someone, not just about her, about everything. I refused she called me suborn and just... I don't know how she does it but she just disappeared.”

“And now you're here talking to me about it.” She said with a hint of a smile on her face.

“Yes. Almost makes the argument seem pointless now.”

“Not at all.” She stood from her chair and came closer to me. I hadn't expected that. I'd expected her to run screaming into the arms of my brother. Crying about how dangerous I was and then insist I leave before I could harm her son. Or the best case scenario, remain at a respectable distance, but as she walked over to me I couldn't smell a hint of fear anywhere in the room. She took my hand in hers and to my own surprise I allowed her to. Just watching as she took the seat next to mine. “Have you considered this could be part of your... condition?” She asks.

“Because I’m a werewolf?” I say. At some point Dale must have coached her on words that might provoke an adverse reaction from me and she has always been careful to avoid them. “It's crossed my mind. It's not something that's usual in people like me. The worst part is, I just don't know if she's part of my wolf or if it's just my mind breaking.”

Her hand squeezed my fingers to grasp my attention. “Don't think like that.”

That's when I felt the shudder in my breath and realized my whole body was trembling. Closer to tears then I ever remember being. “Am I going insane?” My words desperate and hollow, even to me. I think I could have coped with the idea that my mind was slipping away from me but I just couldn't decide whether she was the wolf or my subconscious and I couldn't come to a verdict, which eventuality I preferred.

She paused and the silence that followed threatened to deafen me in its intensity. She met my gaze before she spoke and I could see something, skirting around in her mind. “I don't believe so.”

“But you think it could be something.”

She shook her head at me biting on her bottom lip. “So much like your brother.” She took a deep breath and I could see her trying to decide whether it would be a good idea to share her thoughts with me. “There are some tests I could run, if it would give you piece of mind but I really don't think they're necessary.”

“Tests for what?” I said, grasping onto some notion, some vague hope, that I might be provided with some sort of answer to this secret that has been eating me from the inside out for weeks.

“Any number of things.” She said. “It's a multiple chose paper test, if you think it will help I will print you one off but I really think that this is something that is magical not medical.”

I sniffed back the tears that were threatening to leak down my cheeks and pulled my determination deep into my bones. Either way I had to know. “Give me the test.”

It took less than half an hour to complete, I didn't even have to sit in since, Rachel was there through every question, reading them aloud and marking down my answers. After she sat me down and explained the whole thing to me, told me why I couldn't have any number of mental disorders that the paper was testing for and I had to admit that Ammy is the wolf inside me. The beast, pacing around within my chest, civilized and sometimes softly spoken. I didn't think it would be such a relief to discover that.

Rachel extracted a promise from me to find someone in school who I could confide in and I made her pledge that she would not tell Dale of our conversation.

Now as I pack away my things to return to Hogwarts I find myself equal parts saddened to be leaving the comfort of my brother's home and joyousness at seeing my friends again.

I hear Dale's footsteps approaching long before he reaches my doorway and leans against the door jam. “What are you doing?”

I feel myself smile. “Packing.”

“I can see that.” He says stretching out the start of his sentence only to rush through the conclusion. “You going somewhere?”

“I'd say so.” I reply, my eyes still on my task of folding my shirt into my satchel. Adrian was right, this task is humbling. “It's a full moon tonight. I didn't think you'd want a viscous man eating beast around your son.” The phrase is said so much in jest that I am taken aback by how much my views on my disorder have changed over the past months.

“Are you kidding? That boy has been asking me for a dog since he learned how to speak.” We both snigger and I can smell the change in him as his mood becomes serious. “Do you really want to leave?”

I have to think about his question. Never before have I been so at odds with myself. Before I could not wait to return to the safety of the castle but my only time of unease in this house was when I first entered it. I enjoy my brother's company immensely, along with his family but that doesn’t stop me from missing Hermione. “It's for the best.” I answer still not removing my eyes from my task.

“That wasn't quite what I asked.” He says as his feet carry him further into my room.

“I know.” The last of my shirts drop into the bag and I finally turn to face him, bending my knees to take a seat on the side of the bed. “I'm not certain how to answer that.” Honesty and openness is still something I'm coming to terms with. It's the strangest feeling of conflicting emotions I have ever encountered, tasting strange on my tongue but lifting a weight from my shoulders I had no idea I was bearing until now.

He takes a seat on the bed next to the recently packed bag. Looking up at me, already decided on what he wishes to tell me but unsure if the words will be received well. His actions may be far removed from my own, given the amount of time he has spent away from out father but he remains, even now as critically aware of his surroundings as I do. Somehow finding a delicate balance between when he knows he is able to speak freely and without thought, or when his words or movements demand careful consideration. It is a skill that I admit I am envious of but I have come to the conclusion that it can only achieved through trial and error, a task I am in no way looking forward to.

Something on my impassive face must spark a reaction in him because after a brief sigh he leans back, resting his elbow casually on the headboard. “You miss your friends.”

I feel my jaw clench for a moment, irritated at having him read me so easily. It takes me only seconds to squash down the feelings into the pit of my stomach where they will be incapable of causing harm. In the nine days I have been under his roof he has given no indication at any point that he has any desire to harm me, nor the rest of his family for that matter, either physically or mentally. Not even the tiniest slither of perceivable temptation entered his body. So I see no reason to conceal my reasoning to return to my institute of education. “Yes.”

The bobbing of his head shows me his understanding a moment before the side of his bottom lip is pulled between in canines and I watch him silently come to another decision. “But you’re not exactly going to be able to spend any time with them tonight. Are you?”

I offer him a tight-lipped smile, thinking on the dank, dark room deep in the bowels of the castle that I must inhabit during my transformation and find myself saddened at the notion. “No. Unfortunately not.” I know the small cell is not something that is favourable to Ammy either and as a cold slither of anger runs across my shoulders I know her thoughts closely resemble my own.

He stands so abruptly that I have the fleeting temptation to reach for my wand in defence. If this registers in my body language in any way he pays it no heed, only tilting his head towards the doorway with a softly muttered. “Come on.”

I only remain stationary until his body disappears around the doorframe, then Ammy’s sense of curiosity mingles with mine, provoking such a high level of inquisitiveness that I am defenceless against it. I follow in his footsteps all the way to the ground floor and out onto the gravel path around the back of the property. “Now don’t fly off the deep end.” He starts not turning towards me and leading me in the direction of his barn. “I couldn’t get the ministry to approve you visiting without it and seen as it’s here we might as well use it.” He pulls a large bunch of keys from his pocket, spreading them out between his thumb and fingers.

“What exactly are you talking about?” I can feel unease creeping up along my spine, not faring well against the feeling after its long leave of absence.

He sighs, turning towards me for a moment, jutting out his lower jaw and pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth in thought. “It’s better if I show you.” He finally says with a decisive nod.

He has the padlock open a moment later and lifts the bar across the huge double doors.

My gaze runs up the side of the stone building, suddenly finding the high walls and thatch roof ominous. Feeling lost in the shadows it casts, hiding my skin from the afternoon sun. My heart beats hard in my chest as I follow Dale through the wooden door only for to stop dead at the sight before me.

It’s plain to see that he has cleared away many of his belongings to make space in over half of the building, heavy steel bars run along the length of the room and around the walls. Straw liberally covers the floor and even though I am not ensnared within the confines of the massive cage I already feel the heavy sense of claustrophobia settling heavily against my chest.

Swallowing hard I try to force my legs to carry me across the floor but my knees threaten to give out under my weight if I attempt to bend them. So I settle for trying to squash down my terror into the pit of my stomach. Crossing my arms across my chest I try my very hardest to appear unaffected by this new development.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He says and in the side of my vision I can see his palms held out to me in a pacifying gesture. He can see my fear and it reflects in his eyes, what exactly he has to dread about this situation is unclear but I know my ragged breaths calm to an almost manageable level at the sight of it. “I really am. That Umbridge character…” I can see his face twitch in annoyance at the mention of the woman. “She was very specific about this. You don’t know how much I had to fight to build this thing above ground.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and while hoping the shaking in my knees does not cause me to land flat on my face I approach the prison. Letting my fingers graze the cold steel.

‘Yet another prison.’ Ammy’s disapproval is easily distinguishable in my mind. I knew she would have something to say on the matter but I am unable to seek her council with my brother still in the room. I have a bargain to live up to and I must ascertain if this can be factored into our agreement.

Dale clears his throat behind me and I cannot bring myself to look in his direction. “As long as you’ve taken your potion you should be fine in here. It’s got to be better than anywhere they put you in the school.” The emotion in his voice makes the knot in my throat twist and turn almost painfully.

The idea that he built this enclosure, with the specific intention of making me more comfortable during my transformation tonight, is something I had not expected. I have anticipated him to endure my presence while in human form. Casting me away like the dirty little secret I am when the time to become the beast arises. His thoughtfulness, tugging at my chest in gratitude, even if the notion of being copped up with no escape for the night makes cold sweat run along my spine.

The guilt invades my mind. I have neglected to drink my first dose of wolf’s bane, living up to my side of the deal I have made with the wolf inside me. Although I had done so with the intention of returning to the school for the event, knowing that the walls will be thick enough to hold me as they have been tested over the previous months. These strips of steal might look strong and unyielding but have yet to be pitted against the unique animal residing within my skin.

A sense of nobility that I did not think I had even possessed strikes a chord inside of me. The bed of straw does look inviting in place of the old rags waiting for me in the deep bowels of the castle and it is possible that Ammy might be more placid when not so deep underground but I simply refuse to put this family in any sort of danger that I could potentially prevent.

My fingers wrap around the bar under my skin, undecided on how to proceed. To come to any sort of conclusion I simply must consort with Ammy. There is no escaping that fact but first I must remove my brother from earshot. My fingers touch each bar as I walk along the parameter. “Can I think about it?” I ask, still refusing to make eyes contact. I can feel Ammy pacing around behind my eyes and I am unwilling to risk him seeing her in their depths.

“Of course you can.” He says instantly and I can hear his feet shuffling nervously from across the room. “Just don’t take too long about it. Sunset is in a couple of hours.” My strange internal body clock corrects him. Somehow knowing on instinct that the sun will dip below the horizon in exactly two hours and twenty-seven minuets. I shake off the thought and remain silent, attributing the feeling to the beast’s willingness to be unleashed. “Oh you want me to…” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat as he recognises my stoic air for what it is, vaguely waving his hand in the direction of the doorway. “Alright. Just let me know.”

Without tuning I nod my consent and listen to his retreating footsteps, following them across the gravel and I reach the door to the cage as he disappears into the household.

Wrapping my fingers around the steel I pull against it, feeling the new hinges resist and hearing their groan at being disturbed. “What do you think?” I ask the open air, knowing the beast behind my eyes will hear me.

‘This prison is superior, but a prison just the same.’ I can practically taste her aversion to this idea.

“Agreed.” I say pulling the door closed behind me, just needing to feel the effects of the large space before I have no means of escaping them. I toe at the straw bedding, finding the layer to be much deeper than I had anticipated; the wooden floor has also been removed and beneath my feet is nothing but earth. I can’t help but think such a luxury is foolhardy of my brother. Had Ammy the inclination she could dig her way out of her cell throughout the course of the night. Although he is unaware of the ineffectiveness of wolf’s bane and would assume that I would spend the night curled up and asleep. “You’d have room to pace.” I state not willing to draw attention to the state of the flooring and give her any ideas.

‘That is favourable.’ She muses, her ire diminishing slightly. ‘And to feel the ground would indeed be a privilege.’ My teeth clench at her observation, noting that she has not made any mention of escape but still feeling uneasy. ‘Something troubles you.’ She comments after a long pause.

“Are you in my thoughts again?” I ask raising my eye line towards the ceiling. The top of the enclosure is open air, I can see the thatch roof and support beams stretched high above me. The structural integrity is still kept intact by ridged strips of pained steel at each cornier, heavily welded into place.

‘We both know I am not privy to your thoughts, Human.” She says easily. There is little malice in my voice for her to respond to, since my conversation with Rachel a few days ago she has somehow become more tolerable and in turn I have been disinclined to bait her into an argument. I am uncertain if my tolerance of her existence has simply escalated or if she has changed her tactics for when we communicate but it matters little. The respite is more than welcome and we have been able to speak almost civilly, when in private. ‘I feel your emotions, just as you do mine.’

“So you keep saying.” I answer; distracted by my surroundings and my attention is caught by a glint of chrome buried in the straw. It is not that I do not trust her words; it is logical to assume that she has as much insight into my most private thoughts as I do over hers and she has not once indicated that she knows directly what it is I am thinking at any particular time. The fact that she is so perceptive is disconcerting after spending my entire life hiding my feelings from those around me but I am very slowly beginning to become accustomed to the feeling.

‘I have never lied to you, Human.’ She says, a growl detected in her voice ringing through my head. I pay it little heed, to preoccupied to be dragged into another bout of bickering with my wolf.

I make a low sound of acknowledgement in the back of my throat as my toe touches the bowl I have discovered, nestled in the dried grass, the crystal clear liquid filling the bowl ripples from the centre and a few drops spill over the side. How had I never thought to provide Ammy with such a simple necessity as water before?

I let one of my eyebrows dip low over my eyes at the realisation, somehow even subconsciously I had been denying the creature inside of me the same essential survival components, which have been refused me through much of my life. The only difference is that I had not even given a moment’s thought towards it, not even acknowledged that she would even need such things and still I wonder why we quarrel.

“Do you want to stay here?” I ask, pulling myself from my depressing thoughts. Surprised at my own words; not being able to recall ever asking for her opinion before. It would appear that the discovery that I am not steadily going insane and Ammy is in fact a manifestation of the animal inside of me has a positive effect on my attitude towards her.

I can feel her in thought for several moments and I have the time to stride around the parameter, my clothing brushing against the cold steel. Testing the layout of the oblong enclosure, wondering if my long stride is a match for when my body is forced onto four paws.

‘This is preferable.’ She finally says and there is a distinct tone to her voice that shows her surprise over my question even after she has left such a stretch of time before answering. ‘It is not under the stars but this should be sufficient.’

“You know I can’t give you that.” I say turning to rest my back against the bars and dropping my forehead into my waiting hand. Debating with myself as to whether to give voice to the one question that burns against the back of my tongue. “Can I trust you?” I feel her enquiry run along the length of my spine but she remains silent. Leaning my head back until I feel the chill of the metal touch my crown I cast my eyes around the enclosure. “I have no idea if these bars will hold you. Are you going to try and find out?”

‘You keep that vile potion out of our blood and I will remain calm tonight. Regardless of where we are. Of that you have my word.’ She answers without a moment’s hesitation.

“That’s enough for me.” I say, pushing myself away from the bars and heading towards the door, intent on informing my brother that I wish to remain in his care for another night.
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By The Light