CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
selkie swims

𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

  STRAIGHT AWAY, COVE DECIDES THAT going to the party was a grave mistake.

  Her shoes click against the cobbled floors, a metronome resounding against the chirruping of the nightly orchestra. The emptiness of the corridors acts as both a blessing and a curse, protecting the more obvious aspects of her transformation from nosy students while also serving as an overbearing reminder of how isolated she truly feels, caught in nature's crossfire. Every time she passes a mirror, she flinches away as if the sight of her own reflection burns her, repulsed by the way her form is at the crossroads between humanity and something far more bestial. Cove would never claim to be ashamed of her selkie blood, but at times it becomes difficult to feel even remotely proud of it.

Perhaps her life would be easier if she made a permanent decision between land and sea. She could finally belong somewhere properly. No more secrets, no more hiding. The real question is, would she give in to a mortal destiny bound to the beaches and fields, or an immortal life out in the deep waters?

No. Cove could never bring herself to do it. The idea of choosing between her two worlds only ever makes her feel nauseous.

She comes across the nearest girls' toilets, running in so violently that the door bangs against the wall and creaks dangerously. Cove averts her eyes from the mirrors as if what she'll come face to face with is a grotesque, medusian sight that will turn her to stone. No, the truth is that she's just trying to hide from the harsh reality that her human features are transmogrifying to that of a seal's. She wishes she at least had her sealskin to ease her through the unpleasant change. It would be so much more painless that way.

Cove slumps against the cubicle wall, tearing off her rings and shoving them safely inside her bra so that her fingers can develop into flippers without tearing through any of the webbed membrane. The mere notion of what that'd feel like makes her knees go all wobbly and her head feel woozy. Why didn't she go directly to the lake, like any rational selkie in her position would? Triton, she really feels like she's going to be sick now.

  It isn't long before the emptiness of the lavatory is filled by worried exclamations of her own name. Two pairs of feet appear at the gap between the cubicle door and the floor tiles, one dressed in ruby stilettos and the other in sparkly kitten heels. Someone raps their knuckles against the door, fine jewellery knocking hard against the worn wood.

  "Go away," Cove snaps, shrinking away from the door. Ensnared in her own consequences.

  "No. Not until you talk to us."

  "I'm not having a laugh. Leave me alone."

  "Yeah, we know that. We can hear your crying," Fallon chimes in helpfully.

  She sniffles. "Shut up."

  Outside the stall, Mary shoots a withering glare at Fallon. She sighs heartily and turns back to the door. "You can't hide in there forever, you know! You'll have to come out at some point. Think of Pip."

  "Don't use Pip against me, Mary."

  "Look, Cove, this has been a problem for too long now. We're scared for you, love. Please tell us what's bothering you and we can try to sort it out. Bottling it up won't make you feel any better."

"Oh, believe me, it's nothing you can solve."

"Try us! You never know."

  Irritation tugs at her mind, puppeteering her to say something nasty that she'll regret later so that they might leave her be. She opens her mouth to interject, but a subdued cry of pain escapes instead as her leg bends at an awkward angle, her entire body propped up only by her hands at this point. Without her sealskin, her bones are starting to rearrange into an entirely different anatomy. Her breathing is sharp and laboured, excruciating pain searing through her body.

  "What was that? Are you hurt?"

  Cove groans. "I'm alright."

  She starts pounding on the door again. "No, you're not. Open the door, or I'll break it down if I have to!"

  "You wouldn't."

  "Oh, I most certainly would."

Suddenly, a girl dressed as a black cat comes in the door, pausing at the sight of them banging on the cubicle and shouting over one another. Her eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Piss off!" Fallon and Mary yell in unison. The sound echoes.

She scurries back out the door.

"You need to tell us what's bothering you," Mary insists, prying until she cracks. "It's getting worrying, now. What's really going on with you and Remus? What did he do?"

  "Oh, for fuck's sake, it's barely anything to do with Remus."

Lie.

  "Come out of the stall, Cove," Fallon calls. "We need to talk face to face."

  She buries her face in her hands, recoiling when she feels that they're clawed and webbed. Conflicted, she stares down at her palms, at the grooves of her fingers as they morph.

  "Do you promise not to scream?"

  They share a confused glance.

"What? Why would we scream?" Mary asks.

  When Cove unlatches the lock and pushes the door open, she's too ashamed to look either of them in the eye. The slight gasp Mary releases makes her recoil away from them, trying to hide behind her hair so that they can't scrutinise her. She regrets leaving the stall altogether.

  They both seem to be at a loss for words, but Fallon miraculously manages to find her voice before Mary can.

  "Are you okay?" is the first thing she asks. Then, "What happened to your eyes? No offence."

  "None taken. I think. Well, I, um... I'm a selkie. Surprise!"

  They both stand silently, gawking at her. Fallon opens her mouth to say something again, but Cove cuts her off.

  "Don't hate me," she murmurs. "If you're going to do anything about this—" she gestures toward herself self consciously— "don't do that."

  Rather than saying anything, Mary rushes forward and embraces her tightly, smoothing a comforting hand over her frizzy hair.

  "Oh, babe," she whispers gently. "Nothing could ever make us hate you."

  Fallon sniffles. "You're making me feel all left out," she says, promptly wrapping her arms around the two of them and slithering into their hug. Cove laughs through her salty tears and nestles closer into her friends, relishing in their acceptance.

"Um, guys?"

"Yeah?"

"This is lovely and all, but I really need to go to the lake. Or, yknow, I'll become a seal right here and now."

Fallon's eyes widen. "Shite, yeah! Of course!"

Mary drags her towards the door. "Why didn't you say so? Hurry up, then!"

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

  THE THREE MANAGE TO MAKE IT TO the banks of the Black Lake before it's too late.

Frost covers the grass underfoot, glazing everything in little white crystals of freezing cold. The turrets of the castle behind them are dusted with the stuff, covered in a thin layer of white that looks like icing sugar against the twilight. As the night begins to grow colder and colder, Cove finds herself balanced in between Mary and Fallon, hobbling on a mildly broken leg down to the loch. She tells them to just dump her in, and they're more than happy to oblige.

  Cove sinks back into the icy water, relishing in the way her splintering bones mend. The cold is never a problem for her in and out of seal form, with thick skin and even thicker blubber to keep all her heat in. She dives under the surface and when she emerges, a sooty seal face peers back at the two witches lingering on land. A bit too small to be a grey seal, though far too big to be a harbour seal. Her friends have waded into the shallows to get closer, squealing at the temperature, fancy shoes gathered in their hands.

Mary and Fallon watch carefully as she splashes about in the depths, like worried parents watching their toddler run headfirst into the unpredictable sea. She flicks water at them with her flipper and disappears before they can retaliate, eventually resurfacing with a barking call that sounds akin to a laugh. The two of them rush forwards until the hems of their dresses are sodden with lake water, cupping it in their hands to chuck at her, declaring it to be unfair when she bobs back under the surface to avoid their combined attack.

Their little argument eventually dissolves into laughter, human and seal alike. They have not a care in the world — it's them and the night, which is spent revelling in the silence of the Black Lake. They're hardly scared of merpeople or a bloody Giant Squid when they have one another to make the darkness below seem far less daunting.

  Though, they're not as alone as they think. Unbeknownst to them, just up the hill from their little gathering, Sirius Black snubs out his cigarette on the wall and crushes it beneath his heel. His mouth is set in a firm line, the humour that usually warms his cold features missing completely.

  He hums smugly to himself, and heads back inside with a new secret stored securely at the back of his mind. One he's dying to tell.

author's note!

'that's why (his) hair is so big, it's full of secrets'