CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
the monster mash

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  MARY AND FALLON INSIST THAT GOING to the Ravenclaw Halloween party would take her mind off of her nagging problems — though, Cove doesn't quite see the logic behind that since the most blatant problem in question will definitely be there. And yet, despite dragging her heels at first, Cove now finds herself spending her Samhain night dressed up and going to a party instead of making offerings to her ancestors like her colony would've wanted her to. Sorry, ancestors.

   It doesn't help that her powers, of sorts, start acting up around all the different festivals in the Wheel of the Year. She's not exactly sure why, suspecting that it's to do with her primal instincts as a selkie causing her to gravitate towards nature during significant dates on the pagan calendar. Maybe. She's had it explained to her before but her mind is truly like a sieve when she's feeling bored. Typically, it's the same side effects as when she hasn't transformed frequently enough — her body trying to convert desperately to her seal form, yearning to break free of her mortal chains with webbed hands and blackening eyes. She decides that she'll just have to pull a Cinderella at the first signs of that occurrence and flee from the party before it's too late, hopefully with both of her shoes firmly on her feet.

The three of them stand before the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, knees aching from the spiralling staircase they had trudged up to summit the tower. A pure bronze door knocker in the shape of an austere raven peers down at them, evidently unimpressed. Mary scoffs and her vampire teeth poke past her scarlet lips, which are curled in disapproval. She turns her nose up at the door.

"Sorry, but I'm not answering any bloody riddles," she says. "What is this, a school?"

Cove frowns. "Yes?"

  Fallon tuts. "Oh, whatever. Suit yourself. I'm cracked at riddles," she boasts. Her fairy wings rustle when she turns to the metal raven. "Hit me with your best."

  It stares at her, unimpressed.

  "When you need me, you throw me away. But when you're done with me, you bring me back. What am I?"

   Her face scrunches. "What the fuck?"

   "Wait, I think I've heard that before," Cove says. "Er, excuse me, Mr Raven, is it an anchor?"

  The door swings wide open.

  "...That was going to be my next guess."

  She pats her on the shoulder sympathetically. "I know. I know."

  The party is in full swing by the time they get there, fashionably late as always. Bronze and blue silks drape across the tall windows, adorned in paper cobwebs and pumpkins. One of the lightbulbs upon the chandelier has been transfigured into a disco ball that spins around in unpredictable circles, casting squares of opaline light around the grand room. The painted stars upon the deep cerulean ceiling have also been charmed to glow vibrantly, radiating a vague strobe effect that causes Cove to blink the disorientation out of her eyes.

As opposed to the last party they went to, Cove sticks like glue to Fallon's side, even grabbing onto the hem of her floaty dress so that she doesn't stray too far. Mary excuses herself to go and chat up some Slytherin that had caught her eye, leaving them to cling to the wall and observe their peers — which really just translates to gossiping about them all.

Cove shakes Fallon's arm wildly. "Oh my days, is that Struan McNab? Did he no get expelled for decking Matthew Wood over a quidditch match ages ago?"

"Nah, just suspended." Fallon makes a face. "I'll do you one better. Is that Avery snogging Venetia Selwyn? Is he not with Alecto Carrow?"

"Really? Last time I heard, he was going with Katie Parkinson," she says sagely.

"Ew. Are they not cousins?"

Cove shrugs. "That wouldn't surprise me. His family tree is a circle."

"Ugh, wizard tories."

"Scum of the earth."

She hums, nodding her head.

"Oh, look, there's Marlene," Cove says, turning to inform Fallon only to see that she has somehow completely disappeared, most likely on the prowl for firewhisky. So much for sticking to her like glue. "Wow. Fabulous. Hi, Marlene."

  "Hiya, Cove," Marlene says cheerfully, words slightly slurred. She reaches up to fiddle with the cat ears atop her head. "Alright?"

She's dressed up as Melody from an old American cartoon, Josie and the Pussycats, her blonde hair crimped within an inch of its life. Cove remembers watching a few of the episodes at a friend's house when she was in primary school, entranced by the vibrant colours and catchy music. She suspects that Lily and Dorcas are going as Josie and Valerie — assuming it's a group costume, that is. Though, Marlene's outfit choice does make her wonder where she managed to find a cheetah print leotard in the first place...

  Marlene's an enigma. She respects that.

"I'm good. I like your costume," Cove compliments. "Very nostalgic."

"Cheers! That's what I was going for. What're you supposed to be?"

  "Oh, I'm a bowtruckle," she says. She points at the green hairband she's wearing, fake leaves growing off the top of it. "I know it's not really the best. I just had a green dress lying around."

  "Aw, no, it's class," Marlene replies, her grin infectious. "Anyways, have you seen Lily about? I went to get her a drink but I think she ran off with James somewhere."

  "Um," Cove pauses, looking around. Her night vision is acting up because the lights are all turned down low, so she can easily spot Lily from across the room. "Aye. She's over there, see?"

  "Ah, right. Silly me. Ta very much."

  "No worries!"

  She watches as the Gryffindor goes blundering through the crowd to get to her friend, elbowing people out of the way without a care in the world. Cove can hear their delighted screams from across the room when Mamma Mia by ABBA starts to play.

  A cold hand touches her on the shoulder and she practically jumps five feet in the air, releasing a small scream that's drowned out by the blasting music. She pulls down the sleeves of her light green cardigan, swaddling herself tight to recover. Mary and Fallon are stood behind her, drinks in hand.

Fallon grins. "Cool your jets, Vee. Am I really that scary?"

Cove glowers. "Terrifying."

"Here," Fallon says, handing her a plastic cup that's overflowing with a mystery liquid. "Chin, chin!"

"Sláinte," she mutters halfheartedly.

She knocks it back, waiting for that familiar burn to warm her insides and melt away her worries. Though, in place of it, the taste of igneous poison taints her tastebuds. It doesn't taste like any alcohol she's ever had before, soaking into her tongue like venom. It's unbearable and she can't help but spit it out, guilty for the stain it leaves upon the rug.

"Aw, what the fuck is in this, Fallon?" she demands, face scrunched in disgust. "It's absolutely vile."

Her eyebrows furrow. "It's only firewhisky, Cove. I dunno what you mean."

"Really?" She looks down at the contents. The drink sloshes about like liquid amber, warming her calloused palms as they grasp the drink. It's definitely firewhisky, so she doesn't understand why it tastes so bizarre to her. Cove puts it down to her tastebuds acting up from the pull of the seal and hands the cup over to Fallon, perfectly content to be rid of it. Mary and Fallon share one of their looks at her behaviour.

Cove wants to cry. She doesn't like it when they treat her as though she's made of glass, treading on eggshells around her whenever she does something vaguely out of the ordinary. It's not like there's anything wrong with her. Right?

She watches as they engage in one of their silent conversations over her, blinking and wildly gesturing as if she's blind to their worries. An ache forms in her chest and she rubs at it desperately, fingers finding home around the seashell on her necklace. The room feels like it's closing in on her. She doesn't want to be there any more.

She swallows the lump forming in her throat. "I'm going to get some air," she announces, pulling away from her friends and heading in the opposite direction.

The crowd is increasing, so many people dancing around her that she can't see the floor. People doing drinking games, couples getting too close for comfort, chaos enveloping the room all around her. Any Ravenclaw or Gryffindor party usually ends up that way, which is why she tends to hang onto the outskirts, a blossoming wallflower. Though, in her panic, she's only gone and dove into the eye of the storm, trying to wade through the heart of the party to no avail. Someone knocks into her back, but when she turns to admonish them, she spots something that makes her heart leap into her mouth.

Remus is standing a few meters away from
her, dressed up as one of the Beatles. Of course. She can't tell which one. Their eyes meet, magnetic and irresistible, two ships passing in the night as she takes a few steps back. He looks as if desperately he wants to say something to her, beginning to push through the crowd. She loathes the way her heart flutters. Cove spins around fast enough to give herself whiplash, her head beginning to swim as the clock ticks a minute closer to midnight.

  She catches sight of her reflection in a mirror. A gasp clogs up her airways, hand flying to her mouth.

  Her eyes have gone completely black now, her expanding pupils like an infection spreading until her pale irises are covered in a veil of darkness. Her teeth have sharpened even further than usual, dangerously close to tearing up the fragile skin of her human mouth. A thin membrane layer has begun to develop in between her fingers and her nails are rapidly changing, morphing into blunt claws that scratch against her palms. Everything feels wrong, her form decidedly human yet not human enough, intrusions from her seal anatomy poking through. The transformations are never comfortable when they're forced, especially without her sealskin to envelop her in a warm embrace.

  "Are you alright, love?"

  Mary's voice is usually silky smooth and reassuring to her ears, but it's taken on the same sound as nails to a chalkboard when Cove isn't welcoming of her comfort.

  Cove backs away from her, staring at the ground. She knocks into someone and apologises feverishly, dodging past all the other obstacles in her way until she can almost touch the dark oak door. The concerned stare of her friend is beginning to overwhelm her, that worry glinting in her eyes turned prying. Mary keeps trying to come closer, to take a proper look at her in an attempt to understand whatever's weighing on her mind this time. It makes her feel suffocated.

  "No, stop, I—"

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Mary asks, gently grabbing her shoulders to finally look her in the eyes. She lurches away, trying to hide them from her view.

Tears begin to fall. The lights are blinding, her clothes are starting to feel too much like clothes against her flesh, the music becoming excruciating against her sensitive hearing. She presses her palms to her eyes, lets out a quiet sob, and promptly sprints in the direction of the closest bathroom to hide in.

  "Cove, wait!" Mary calls, but to no avail. She has already fled out the door, leaving the bustle of the party far behind her.

author's note!

happy halloween!! (it's march)

i hope this chapter made sense lmao it was a bit more fast paced and all over the place than i wanted it to be

and ik i've been severely lacking in remus content but i've not *completely* forgotten about him, and he'll have his own wee chapter veryyy soon i promise