CHAPTER FIFTEEN
pomfrey's insight

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  CORDELIA'S WARNINGS KEEP COVE UP for the rest of the night. Their argument fogs up her mind, regret tugging at her heartstrings whenever she dwells on the disagreement she had with her best friend, cross with herself for reacting so explosively to what is probably the cold hard truth. Everything is beginning to feel so real, the strings of fate threading together until they grow taught and almost tangible.

  It doesn't help that post transformation, every sense is still heightened. Her eye twitches whenever the single drip in the shower begins to patter down on the tile, grating against her ears through the closed door, or the incessant ticking of Fallon's watch in the bed opposite to her own. The pyjamas she shrugged on a few hours ago stick to her hypersensitive skin, every single fibre in the material sinking into her pores until she's at her breaking point. She twists and turns in her sheets, thinking about too many things all at once and trying to ignore the growing ache in her arm. She's starting to suspect that it's sprained, giving her one more problem to worry over.

Her thoughts about Cordelia conflict with what she'd seen last night. Those creatures running wild through the grounds, predator and prey marauding around together like close friends. Sure, Cove has seen shortfin mako sharks befriend porpoises before but not in the same way that the werewolf has made friends out of the stag and the rat — she could sort of understand the stray dog, though it's still strange. Perhaps the werewolf's humanity remained enough that they could gain the trust of those animals? Or maybe they aren't animals at all, but what else could they really be? She's never heard of selkies taking on the forms of other animals. She makes a mental note to visit the library at some point to look into it.

  In no time at all Hattie Fawley's alarm trills on the other side of the dormitory, announcing to everyone else that it's already half six and they have to waken up in time for breakfast. Cove doesn't know if she could stomach it yet. She rolls over to smother her face in her pillow as the other girls begin to stir.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

DON'T GET HER WRONG, COVE LOVES Madam Pomfrey as much as the next person, but if she could choose to be absolutely anywhere in the school, the hospital wing would be her very last choice.

  Overcast skies provide little light through the stained glass windows and that perpetual atmosphere of unease immediately sets her on edge. It's too quiet for her liking, goosebumps coasting over her arms as the infirmary echoes with her own sharp breaths. The thick smell of dettol lingering around the room begins to get to her head after five minutes, the fumes from all of the brewing medicinal potions giving her a headache. If anything, she felt better prior to visiting the hospital wing.

  Cove spots Madam Pomfrey rearranging her medicine cabinet in organised chaos. She walks over and tries her hardest not to give her a fright, even though it never works in her favour.

   "Hiya," she says as casually as she can muster. Pomfrey's shoulders still jerk in surprise, placing a hand over her racing heart. "I hurt my arm last night. Can you take a look, please?"

"Merlin's beard, I didn't see you there. Of course!" Madam Pomfrey exclaims, ushering her over to her usual bed. "Take a seat, pet. Settle in, I'll be with you shortly."

Cove obliges. She does a quick scan of the infirmary whilst she makes a beeline for the hospital bed, noticing that it looks to be almost totally empty. However, as she dips past the curtain, she spots a flash of mousy hair in one of the neighbouring beds. There's no more time to see if it is who she thinks it is because Pomfrey's already bustling over with a tray littered with medicine and gauze.

She examines Cove's arm carefully, turning it to and fro to test the waters, tutting under her breath in the habitual way that she usually does. "Yes, definitely sprained. You must take better care of yourself out there! How did you manage to hurt it in the first place?"

A smile ghosts her face. "There was a pearl. It wasn't in a mussel or anything so I'm not sure how it had gotten there. Maybe a mermaid had dropped it or something, but I knew I had to have it. My flipper got caught up in all the seaweed and rocks when I tried."

She produces it from her bag to show the matron, the tiny pearl clinking softly against the silver of her rings. It's similar to the way a child presents some new knick knack they've found to their parent, brandishing a toothy grin as their chest puffs out with pride. Cove feels a bit ridiculous when she's doing it but when Madam Pomfrey shows interest, real or not, she admittedly feels a bit better.

"It's lovely, Cove," she croons. "Though I'm not sure it's worth you being in pain, dearest. The next time you're out on a swim, please don't try to endanger yourself like that again. What would happen if you'd been stuck? Even seals can't breathe underwater forever."

  "I could always try," she jokes. Madam Pomfrey doesn't seem to find it funny.

  A flick of her wand tightens the gauze around Cove's elbow, bending it in an awkward angle so that it can heal.

  "Are you planning on going to the game tomorrow?" Pomfrey asks.

  "Yeah," Cove nods. "House pride and all that. Whoo, go Hufflepuff!"

  Madam Pomfrey's lips twitch into an inevitable smile, shining through her professional facade. "Try not to put any strain on your sore arm," she instructs. "I'll be by the pitch in the event of Quidditch related injuries but I wouldn't recommend coming to see me unless it's serious. Quidditch season is my busiest time of year."

  She grimaces. "Yikes."

"Yikes indeed. Have a few drops of this painkilling potion to soothe the discomfort in your arm and you can head on over to first period."

  History of Magic. Wonderful.

  Cove hoists her bag onto her shoulder and after she overrules feigning another injury to get out of classes for the morning, she finds herself chasing after the nurse with a question.

  "Er, Madam Pomfrey? Can I ask you something?"

  "Of course, dear."

  "Um, this might sound silly," she prefaces, "but can selkies take on forms other than seals?"

  "Well, I don't think so. There's never been any report of that for selkies, anyhow. You might be thinking more in the ballpark of animagi. I think your question is better suited to the likes of Professor Kettleburn." She arches an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"

  "No reason," Cove says hurriedly. "Just, er, wondering. I'll be off then!"

  Suspicion gleams on her face. "Okay. Have a nice day."

  "You too!"

Her trainers squeak against the linoleum uncomfortably and she tries not to think about how her feet stick slightly when they land. She slows her walk a bit, trying to peek through the gap in the curtain like she had done last time without properly going inside. This time, it's a bit easier with a keener sense of sight on her side.

Confirming her suspicions, Remus is curled up in a cocoon of duvets and patchwork blankets. His long eyelashes graze his cheekbones, honey eyes hidden behind the easily ruptured veil of sleep. The friendship bracelet hanging loosely around his wrist is pressed tightly against his chest as if he'd fallen asleep holding it close. Sorrow clouds her better judgement when she looks at the irritated scars that zigzag over his fair skin. Admittedly, Cove feels a bit creepy standing watching him as he sleeps, but she can't seem to tear herself away. Her feet are glued to the spot, the pain in her arm numbing as she surveys every or the odd flutter of his eyelids. Yeah, definitely creepy.

She can tell that he's secretly awake. She heads for the double doors anyway.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

COVE DOESN'T GO TO FIRST PERIOD.

  Instead, she heads across the corridor and into the library, swerving around her classroom to narrowly avoid an hour of sheer boredom. She prays to Amphitrite that nobody spots her and grasses on her to their professor — not that he would do anything about it, him being a ghost and all. However, her head of year may not be so forgiving. Merlin, since when do her shoes squeak so loudly against the floor? Since when did she breathe so loudly? Sneaking around well is too much effort for her and maybe it's the sleep deprivation talking, but she has a sneaky feeling that Remus has sparked a rebellious streak in her after they ditched detention twice. Wonders will never cease.

Well, she likes to think that. In reality, asking Madam Pince to have a look in the restricted section nearly finished her off. The fear she felt in that moment would never be matched again. A quick white lie about a homework assignment seems to do the trick, but her heartbeat is thunderous enough to shake the building on its foundations.

Her karma for lying comes in the form of an unbelievably thick book on all things shapeshifting. There isn't a proper cover or title, the pages merely bound in a thick slab of dragon hide and a secure piece of tan string. Cove has to wonder about the ethics of something like that. Upon closer inspection, it was last checked out a whole two years prior, way back when she was in her fifth year, being taken out a total of seven times over the course of sixty odd years. What an odd book.

She's drawn to a secluded part of the library wedged in between two shelves on Arithmancy — both untouched and cobwebbed. A dangerous snapping noise creaks from the book's thick spine when she manages to heave it open, the authors name smudged over the very front page. The index is only the most confusing thing she's ever laid eyes upon, so Cove has to take matters into her own hands and begins to flick through the thick tone. One title in particular snatches her attention.

'SELKIES: FRIEND OR FOE?'

Cove snorts. "This'll be good."

Pince shushes her from across the library.

The urge to cry resurfaces. She flicks through a few hundred pages until landing on a yellowed bit of parchment that looks promising enough, a heading in bold lettering jumping out at her straight away. Using a rubber from her pencil case, she weighs down the top corner to keep it firmly in place.

'SHAPESHIFTERS UNDER A MICROSCOPE: ANIMAGI ANALYSED.'

An Animagus (plural, Animagi) is a witch or wizard who can transform between an animal and human form at will. It's a complex, learned skill, unlike the hereditary traits of a Metamorphmagus. An Animagus has no control of whatever animal they may transform into, instead being shifted into whatever is most fitting. Though, one's Animagus form has commonly been known to reflect their corporeal Patronus. The separate forms tend to mirror one another; for example, if an Animagus suffers a major physical altercation, such as the loss of a limb, their animal form will share that injury. The very first step towards becoming an Animagus...

Cove's eyes glaze over when the author starts babbling about moon cycles and mandrake leaves. She skim reads the next few paragraphs, clicking her tongue impatiently at the lack of anything useful. Then again, she doesn't actually have any clue what she's supposed to be searching for. Perhaps it would've payed off more if she thought through and planned out her research.

She's about to hand the book back in when the rubber that's securing the page she wants begins to slip, the pages fluttering wildly until the book opens to a section that strikes her interest. The chapter title makes her scoff slightly.

'LYCANTHROPY FOR DUMMIES.'

Perfect.

author's note!

'painkilling potion' but it's just paracetamol in sparkling water

me after looking up a list of sea deities to have cove mention every other chapter as an exclamation 💋💋 it's my favourite hobby