Screams of excitement filled the early august air, where a family made upon redheads whizzed above the grounds on brooms. Each playing their own version of quidditch, throwing a quaffle towards each goal set with cheers of happiness. Words twisted around the Burrow, filled with softhearted insults from each sibling.

In a tree, furthest from the ongoing game and out of the hit zone, sat a girl. Her back pressed into the rough bark of the tree, a white summer dress decorated with blue flowers hugged her shoulders and body. As one leg hung over the side of the branch she perched upon, the other rested out in front of her. She watched, unfazed by the screams or noise around her, as mist slowly curled its hands upwards. Drifting in from the slow setting sun.

Mist was everywhere these days, she knew this only because of the newspaper she would read during the early hours. It was the first real sign of mayhem in the United States, the second was the crashing of bridges and muggles disappearing.

It was all a slow ticking flame to a bomb that was awaiting its time to explode.

The girl had a book rested upon her lap, leather bound and dog ear tagged, ( Remus Lupin would surely be the one to kill her later, ) though she paid little mind to the written words. Instead, her mind drifted onwards, as it tended to usually do lately.

She would get lost in her mind, a thousand people could be talking to her at once, but she would hear none of it. Only the words in her brain and the soft thumping of her skin sharing its sole with another. She would feel their worries, they would soak into the pores of her flesh and take a hold upon her heart strings, but she would speak not a word and feel it alone.

Her mind was lost now, drifting far off from her.

For instance, now her mind was conjuring up every single scenario that could've happened to her father.

Elijah Buldstrode had disappeared from his tiny cell in Azkaban two weeks prior to this day in the Burrow. Images of his pasted face and emotionless gaze haunted her everywhere she went, she had nearly crushed a plate in between her fingers when his picture shocked her on the cover of the Daily Prophet.

Sirius Black had burned the paper right then and there.

But she wondered, where was he now? Was he harmed? Was he begging for mercy by the hands of some wicked villain with searing crimson eyes?

There was a part of her that deliciously yearned that he was.

But the more human part of her, felt nothing but hollowness as she imagined that.

It was one thing to wish for harm to come to someone, but it is another thing altogether to know that it was happening, and there was quite literally nothing she could do to halt it.

A soft sigh left her lips, as the pads of her fingers smoothed over her new Hawthorn wand. Hazel's eyes trickled downwards towards the darker coco shade of the wand, it was resting between the pages of her books, always on her and near her hand somehow.

It was a habit she adapted ever since she got her new wand, if it wasn't pressed into the skin on her palm or strapped to her thigh, fear would twist up her spine and eat away at her until she crumpled to the floor.

She remembered the way Remus looked at her when he found her squeezing it to her chest after they had got it. It was a Dragonstring core, filtering magic like shimmering rays of gold and smelling of citrus fruits, and she nearly doubled over in relief when she was gifted with it.

The brunette had wished to call Cordelia Flint then, spilling every word of the pain she endured the past two weeks. But her fingers always halted over the smooth, chilled texture of their compact. Always freezing, always hiding, never bringing herself to call.

She told herself that it was to protect her cousin, that calling would be too dangerous.

But really, it was to protect herself.

Winifred ( Winnie ) Buldstrode was not the same girl that she was nearly two months ago. Instead, now she was a girl with scars running down her body. There were imprints of claw marks marking the skin on her left leg, it was covered by a sock now, the one on her ankle. The other was shielded away with the fabric of her dress, always out of sight.

Those scars were easy enough to ignore, if they had stopped there, she would never have to worry about calling her.

But the fact was, those were the least gruesome. While they rested like jagged holes, claw marks emitted further than the rest of her skin, pink and irritated with a curse she could not avoid, they were far tamer, far easier to hide.

It was the ones that marked the left side of her face that were harder.

They were pale, a shade lighter than her ivory skin. Starting at the tip of her hairline and running down like shards of jagged lighting across her cheeks. They stretched out like spiderwebs, creating havoc on the side of her face, running over her brown eyebrow and curling around her eye like a mask.

She wished to smash a mirror every time she caught a glance of it.

Some days, she would spend hours staring at herself. Staring at the silver lines with a hardened look across her eyes. Lips pressed together in line with the pads of her fingers slowly rising over them.

It wasn't the fact that it ruined her features, it was the stares she would receive because of it that bothered her so. It was the first thing people notice when they gaze upon her now, their eyes would look too long, and she would feel their questions burn their tongue. She would feel their pity burn hers.

And it is the ultimate reason why she would not call Cordelia.

But as the cool air whizzed past her hair, curling around her shoulders and kissing her raised skin, she remembered the date. It was Cordelia's birthday today, and if she didn't at least call, she would possibly regret it. They had promised to always be there for each other, but this summer had stretched them as far as they possibly could.

Winnie wishes she could've just stayed with Cordelia, have her there when her screams haunt the night and her bones crack like a glass cup.

But she knows if she was, nothing could've stopped her from going to visit her sister that evening. Even worse, if they had been together, Cordelia would've come with her.

And Winnie would've never forgiven herself if Cordelia had been harmed the way she had been. She could live with it herself, she could carry the weight of it as long as nobody else could be harmed.

"Poppins," Sirius Black's smooth voice carried up to her from the ground, causing her fingers to tighten around her wand and her head to glance down upon him. The male had spent half of his time as a dead man walking with his godson, Harry Potter, who was able to stay for a few weeks before returning to the Dursleys. It was the only way Dumbledore would allow it, and she had nearly thrown a fork straight into his eye socket when he demanded Harry to return to his abusive family.

( Anger issues seems to be something she had no idea how to control anymore, if she even did in the first place. )

"Dinner is ready, come down tree climber before Molly comes and pulls you down," the male joked, though deep down Winnie knew he was deadly serious. The redhead pawn of a woman was a deadly force to be reckoned with, one that may or may not have already insisted on tugging the girl down from the tree earlier.

"Alright, I'm coming," Winnie called down, sitting up straighter so both her legs hung over the edge of the tree. Her fingers pushed the book she had rested on her lap closed, tucking it in under one arm as her fingers stayed wrapped around her wand. Swinging her leg over, she balanced herself for a minute, fingers pressing into the rough bark before she pushed herself forward. Falling forward, she quickly landed on her feet, knees bent and arms out before she gracefully pushed herself to stand straighter.

"One day you'll break a bone doing that," Sirius drawled as she glanced up at him, his hair tied to a bun at the nap of his neck, dark hairs traced his features, a beard that he was attempting to grow. Molten grey eyes watched her with a weary of concern, she noticed the way he did that now. More so since she awoke from her slumber of staring at walls with the blankets around her shoulders for nearly two weeks in June. She pretended not to notice.

"And you know I'll simply heal quicker, it won't be the worst thing in the world," she replied simply, pressing her book into her hand where she held her wand. She glanced up at the sky, watching as the Weasley children started to descend from the sky, landing with laughter and smiles on their features.

She wishes Harry could be there to laugh as well, instead of locked away in a bedroom he surely hates.

"You owe me two galleons," Ginny Weasley spoke suddenly as she landed gracefully beside her. Copper hair tied back loosely against her head, with her broom resting in her hands, freckled face gleamed with a thin layer of sweat as she fell into step. Winnie grimaced, taking a small huff as she looked behind her for Ron.

"He didn't!" She groaned, glaring at the taller redhead himself where he walked over towards the table. No doubt ready to stuff his face with every food in sight — she would be lying if she didn't have the same interest in mind.

"Oh but he did," Ginny drawled, grinning like she won the house cup all by herself. "We beat him by two points," she explained as they neared the table that was full of food. The smells drifted around her nose, savoury and sweet as her mouth watered and stomach growled. Sometimes, she felt like she could eat a whole cow as of late, but she knew that was only due to the ticking full moon that drew closer.

"Bugger," Winnie grumbled, frowning as she reached to tuck her wand against her thigh, the same strap that she had required when she got her wand was resting against her right thigh now.

The girls walked closer to the table, where Winnie easily found her spot next in between Remus and George, a small cup sat beside her plate. Steam coiled in the air up around it, drifting off into the glow of the orange skies as she wrinkled her nose at it. A slight grumble pierced through her mind, setting her shoulders to tense and a dull ringing in her ears.

Her wolf always knew things before she did, and it came as a great annoyance to her.

"Did you put it in already?" Winnie questioned quietly, lifting the mug up with careful movements. The smell of lemon and vanilla drifted up to her nose, though the aroma offered her warmth and bliss, she knew the smell would be far bitter and nothing like the tea would offer her.

"I just did," she knew Remus was beside her, she knew it before she even turned her head to look at him. Unlike him, who would rather shoot it dry and empty, Winnie preferred to mix her small helper in with her tea. It was the whole reason why her drink would taste so undesirable to her now, after all, there was Wolfsbane mixed in with it.

When Winnie first awoke those many weeks ago, she had found herself panicking, wondering where she would find Wolfsbane. The idea of never being in control of her mind when in such a dangerous state was terrifying to her, and she would rather be dead than endure it.

Winona gave her an answer before a single worry would leave her lips. While the new wolf was taken care of by the brunette women, she also made the Wolfsbane. Ensuring nothing could ever happen for as long as she took it every day a week before the full moon.

And it was something Winnie surely never forgot to do.

"Bottoms up," she muttered, glancing back down at the mug before she lifted it to her lips. Chugging back as much of the scorching liquid as she could, the heat of the tea didn't cause her any pain, not after weeks upon weeks of chugging it back. It was the taste that caused her lips to wrinkle, the back of her hand pressed into her mouth as she swallowed harshly. "I'll never get used to that," she croaked, sticking out her tongue as the male beside her snorted.

"It gets easier," Remus reassured, as she pushed out her chair, sliding into it and lifting up her weight to push it back.

"Sure old man," Winnie drawled, reaching forward to pick up the bowl of steamed vegetables just as someone ruffled the top of her hair. Strands of brown fell like a curtain in front of her face, frizzy and long, whisking past her chin.

"Did you see how we destroyed my brother?" George's voice trailed around her as she glanced over at the redhead who sat down beside her. His red hair trimmed short slightly, sticking up like grass as he flashed her a wicked grin. She reached over, punching him softly in the shoulder as he faked a gasp, pressing his hand into his shoulder. "Now what did I ever do to deserve such a vile action?"

"You touched my hair," she said flatly, reaching up to straighten her straight locks, pushing it out of her face and behind her shoulder. She watched as his eyes flickered to the side of her face, where the scars stretched out wide and far, that same grumbling in her head returned as she rolled her shoulders.

It didn't bother her.

It didn't bother her.

It didn't bother her.

And as he began to talk about the joke shop, or tease her a little more on her hair, she pretended nothing bothered her. She smiled, she spoke when needed, and slowly nothing bothered her.

Nothing bothered her.

༺♥༻

      The air had cooled, creating goosebumps across her arms and bare skin, making her wish she had brought a sweater. She sits, under the glow of a floating lantern as she picks on a thread of some knitted blanket Molly had given her earlier. A slowly cooling glass of Butterbeer rested in her hands, and while she would usually get tipsy on three, she would feel nothing now even if she drank 100.

She supposed alcoholism would never be one of her labels.

Winnie had been in the kitchens, listening to Molly and Ginny both complain endlessly about Fleur Delacour, ( who was engaged to be married to Bill Weasley next summer ) but after a particular sour taste was trimmed to her mouth, she had left. Winnie never had a problem with the blonde, in fact, she was one of the only ones who didn't stare at her face like it was some amusement extraction.

For that, Winnie would never see a problem with the french girl again.

"Winnie? Are you listening?" Fingers snapped in front of her face, making her jump, startled as she tore her eyes from the glass in her hands. She had been watching a droplet of water trail down the glass and pooling onto the tawny fabric below. She blinked, looking over at the redhead who had sat beside her, the only problem was, she hadn't remembered him sitting there at all.

"Oh," she cleared her throat, shifting in her chair with her eyebrows drawn down together on her forehead. "No sorry, what did you say?" She asked, looking over at him as his blue eyes rolled in his head, she had the mind to punch him, and for a moment she nearly did.

"I was talking about Quidditch, but I should've known you wouldn't listen to that," he explained, causing her eyes to narrow. She stiffened, sucking in her bottom lip between her teeth as her gaze trickled towards the front of the garden. Groups of people filtered in different spots, the twins with Ginny hunched over some box that was surely full of products. Remus and Sirius sat with the Weasley's, engaged in some conversation. While Bill and Fleur stood in the middle of the garden, the long haired male laughed as he twirled his fiancé around, her long platinum hair swirling out as she turned to curl herself in his arms.

Winnie wondered how anyone could believe that they didn't love each other.

"There's two things I'm never interested in speaking of," Winnie explained, turning her gaze away from the couple as a certain hollowness filled her heart. All sparking around a certain brunet and his hands in another. "People who like feet, and quidditch," Winnie added, looking back over at Ron as the male snorted.

"People who like feet?" He questioned, slightly amused as she wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, anyone who likes feet is horrid and needs serious mental help," the girl blinked over at him as he barked out a laugh, red hair following backwards with freckles darating across his pale skin from under the glow of the lamp. She snorted slightly, leaning back in her chair a little more as she tucked her feet up under her.

"Hermione is supposed to be here next week," Ron said after a moment of them both being quiet in their own little worlds. Winnie glanced over at him, her hand tightening around her glass. She hadn't told the female yet, for she knew if she had, Hermione would've spent her summer finding out everything she knew about werewolves, and how to help her. That was something Winnie could not deal with, she could deal with this on her own, it was her own monster set out to ruin her summer not anyone else's.

"Oh," Winnie sighed, running her tongue over the bottom of her lips before lifting the glass up to her mouth, taking a small sip of butterbeer. "Is she staying for the rest of the summer?"

"Think so, that's what mum says anyway," Ron shrugged, shifting in his chair as she nodded her head, tapping her nail against the cooled glass. "You haven't told her," the redhead observed, catching her hazel gaze as she looked over at him. The blonde sniffed, shrugging her shoulders and running a hand through her hair.

"Don't really see why it matters," the girl mumbled, twisting her hair around her finger anxiously. Her eyes watching as Remus and Sirius each hugged Molly, laughter lines filling their faces as they smiled.

"I think it does, she's your friend and she would've wanted to help," Ron reminded her, as her hands placed the glass on the floor below her. Throwing off the blanket, with her teeth grinding in her mouth.

"I never asked for her help, it's none of her business," she snapped, completely aware that she was being irrational yet annoyance overrode every emotion in her body. The redhead narrowed his eyes slightly, clearly disagreeing with her but unable to speak further as Remus and Sirius walked closer. She heard them whisper quickly under their breath, and while she usually could train herself to hear their words, she couldn't find it in herself to do so now.

"Time to leave Poppins, afraid my time limit is up," and that was another thing that caused her heart to drop to the floor. Sirius had been ordered to only spend a few hours out a month outside of Grimmauld Place, a few hours out of a month meant coming to the Burrow. And while Molly never minded the company, Winnie wished he could be offered more than just a few hours a month and more options to disappear to.

"Goodnight Ron," the girl breathed, glancing over at the boy who nodded his head. She had a feeling their conversation wouldn't be over, though she had no intention to finish it. It was over on her end and that was all to say.

Shoving her feet in her shoes, she straightened her sock on her left ankle, making sure everything was covered before she pushed herself up. Smoothing her hands down her dress, she reached forward to link her arms with both Remus and Sirius, standing in between them. The familiar movement of Apparition drifted through her body as Remus snapped his fingers, causing them all to filter through time and space, only to land in the living room of Grimmauld place moments later.

The girl felt her stomach twist, as her fingers clenched in tighter to each of the male's, while she had travelled via apparition before, she still wasn't quite used to the queasy feeling that followed her after.

"I think I'll get a wash, and then I'll be down," Winnie announced, her eyes opening from their squeezed position as Remus reached up to wrap his fingers around hers that squeezed the crook of his arm.

"Don't use all the hot water," Sirius teased, though they both knew that it was him that hogged all the hot water. She shared a particular look with Remus at that, before nodding and disappearing up the stairs and into her room. Once the door was shut and locked behind her, she breathed out shakingly. Heels of her hands pressing into her eyes as she wills herself to think clearly.

Truth was, she didn't know when was the last time she had a single clear thought that wasn't jumbled by the other being in her head.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," she whispers, pressing her hands deeper into her eyes until there was a small dull pain in the back of her skull. She feels the effects of its voice before she hears it, it drifts like a chilled shadow over her shoulders, creating goosebumps across her arms and neck. Her knees nearly collapse from the feel of it, but her fingers curl into fist.

'Silly girl, you can never make me go away. Stop denying it.'

It's voice is velvety, filling her mind and buzzing in her ears like a sharp piercing. The first time she had heard it, she thinks she may have died officially, being drawn into insanity. Sometimes she thinks death could be easier than hearing the voice in her head.

Winnie doesn't want this, she has never had. Remus had spoken to her once, telling her that the voice is normal, that the voice means no harm. But how can something that makes her feel like a prisoner in her own skin be right for her?

She doesn't think that would make sense.

'Will you tell her about us? Do you think she'll stare at your face too?'

She reached up and hit her head, fist balled and squared in the middle of her head. "I can't tell her, but I have to call her." She never intended to get a bath, she had dipped herself far into the tub earlier that morning when she awoke from nightmares.

'Love to see how that'll go.'

And she nearly flinches at the bitter laugh that leaves the lips of the voice in her mind, she wishes she could tell it that it would go perfectly fine. But not even she can lie to the monster inside of her, it would be a fool's errand. Winnie inches towards the dark wooded desk in the middle of her room, lined with books and parchment she had spent the summer reading or simply staring at.

The wolf doesn't speak to her again, though she feels it, itching under her skin and watching her every move. Bones tensed, muscles squeezed in under her skin she reached for the compact. Feet stumbling blindly backwards towards her deep violet bedspread, where she falls back on it softly. Sitting up, she crosses her legs and grabs a pillow from behind her. Floating it on her chest and lap, she squeezed it close to her before flipping over the compact.

Now or never.

'Stupid girl.'

She thinks if the world could laugh, it would laugh at her now, a wide, thunderous laughter that strikes her deaf on the spot.

The compact swirls in the front of her hand, exposing the scars that line her face. The way her eyes sank in further beyond her skull, violent bags erupting under her hazel eyes. Her cheekbones stick out slightly, skin pale and void of the normal flush all besides for the smallest smudge against her cheeks. This is all due to the upcoming full moon, she knows this, she understands this.

But she knows Cordelia won't.

The compact glimmers, gold lines drifting across the small round mirror before finally another girl appears on the other side. Faint freckles dotting across her upturned nose and high cheekbones, cerulean eyes danced with exhaustion as they shone with no light or that small twinkle of life that would usually be bursting out of her. It's the glimpse of chin length, maroon hair that causes the brunette to lose all her worry for a moment.

"What the bloody hell did you do to your hair?" Winnie remarks, eyes wide as she lifts the compact up closer to her face to see the hair, eyes squinted.

"What happened to your face?" Cordelia questions at the same time, and it's both a relief and a reminder to the blonde. One, Cordelia's voice brings her a wall of comfort that she hadn't felt in so long that she nearly weeps with the agony of everything that has happened. But the question that took place with her voice is what drives her to clamp her mouth shut, drives her straighten her shoulders and to hug the pillow closer to her chest.

"I don't know what you mean," it's not the smartest thing she could've said, but denying it feels pretty right for her at that moment.

'Good going girl.'

Her left eye twitches.

"Winnie, yes you do know what I mean," Cordelia sighs, dragging her hand down her face as her sigh travels heavily through the compact. Winnie frowns, reaching up to make sure her hair covers half of her, the scarred portion anyway. Especially when she notices the way Cordelia eyes it through the screen as if the answer could be written in the jagged sliverly lines.

'That won't hide me, she'll find out.'

Winnie withholds the urge to mutter that her cousin will find out when she can tell her face to face, but doesn't wish to come off as if she is off her head.

So she changes the subject, and she pretends that it doesn't kill her inside to do so.

"Happy Birthday Lia," the girl speaks softly looking back up at the mirror, the wolf howling in her head suddenly. Making her suddenly aware of the ache that stilled in her chest, freezing over her ribs and heart until it burned to even take a breath. "I'm sorry I didn't call earlier... or the summer, I - I didn't think it would be safe," Winnie explains, twisting the ring in her index finger, one hand holding the compact.

"Thank you, and you're probably right," she pauses for a moment, Cordelia's eyes glancing at some place in the room she sat in. "It wouldn't have been safe," and those words stir a greater feeling in her chest, one that causes a growl to grow in her brain and her fingers to tighten.

"Where are you? Where are you staying?" She asks urgently, startling the brunette ( now redhead ) on the other end, blue eyes looking at the blonde who now had her jaw locked, teeth digging into the side of her cheek.

"Malfoy Manor," and it was as if that was the worst thing Cordelia could say at that moment, for Winnie's lips fell open. Her hazel eyes hardened and her arms pressed the pillow tighter across her chest. "You don't need to worry about me Winnie, I'm okay," Cordelia reassures through the mirror, pink lips pulling into a smile that surely doesn't reach her eyes. It falls flat, flat like the emotion in her eyes.

Winnie is quite sure her cousin is occluding at that moment, and a selfish part of her envies it.

The more human part of her feels heartache watching it, wishing there is something she could do to make things easier.

"Promise?" It's quiet, the way her words leave her lips, and she knows by the way Cordelia stares, lips pressing into a deep frown on her lips, that promise is something that neither could keep at that moment. So Winnie speaks again, "Promise that we're always going to be together no matter what happens," she asks for that instead, because if she didn't have that, she wouldn't know where she would be.

She was drowning in all the changes in her life, and there was nothing keeping afloat.

"Of course, no matter what happens we will always have each other, I promise," and the girl smiles on the other end, as Winnie nods, lifting her lips half heartedly into a smile. They say their goodbyes after that, whispering that they love each other as the mirror goes blank, exposing her scarred face and crackling features once again.

'You don't need anyone else but me.'

"Shut it, I don't need you," she snaps, muttering harshly under her breath as she clamps the compact shut. Letting it drop to the bedspread as she pulls her knees to her chest, the squashed pillow in between as she lets her head fall forward. Face smashing into the feathered pillow. She wishes to scream, not cry, she was so tired of crying. She just wanted to scream, scream until her vocal cords snapped and until all the pain poured itself away into oblivion.

The door clicks, but she doesn't move, she knows who it is without having to glance up. She smells him, cider, smooth dark chocolate and some lavender from their laundry detergent. The wolf howled in her head, recognizing another wolf in the room, the other wolf that had grown closer since her death day.

"Winnie," Remus speaks softly, sitting beside her on the edge of her bed. She lifts her head softly, glancing over at him as hair rests against her shoulders, he looks at her with so much sincerity and understanding that her lip trembles. Which only causes her to huff and shove her head back into the pillow. "It's okay to cry."

"I'm sick of crying," her voice is muffled by the pillow, eyes squeezing shut as tears threaten to prickle away at her eyes. She feels his arm wrap around her shoulders, dragging her coiled body towards him so her head lays on his shoulder. She curls herself up tighter, freezing everything away, burying it deep within herself until nothing can hurt and all she feels is his hand rubbing circles on her back. "I called Cordelia," she mumbles numbly, lifting her head up from the pillow, staring at a picture frame she has next to her bed. Watching the way it moves slowly.

She had taken it sometime after her two week slump, or Sirius had taken it to be exact. It was when Harry had been over for a few nights before leaving, back when she was having those days where she would burst with energy and then snapping at anyone the next day. Remus had told her to find something that takes her mind off everything, baking had been that.

Baking with Harry Potter, however, wasn't something she would suggest doing.

They had broken nearly five eggs before she grew frustrated and cracked an egg on the top of his head. The picture on her nightstand showed just that, her hand leaving his head as the cracked eggs oozed down his hair and onto his face. She was standing, leaning against the counter with laughter leaving her lips.

It was a good day.

"How did that go?" Remus asked quietly as he unwrapped his arm from around her, she shifted, drawing her legs back down into their crossed state as she stared down upon her fingers.

"I didn't tell her," she knew Remus was frowning at her now, he had given her the whole 'tell your friends' speech one day when she had ranted about how terrified she was. "It's not because I don't want to... I just want to tell her person, it doesn't feel like something I should say over a compact," she chuckled bitterly, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"I'm proud of you," Remus admitted after a moment, causing her eyes to glance at him. Eyebrows staying puzzled against her head, the older male smiled, the corners of his silver scars rising with it. "I don't have a reason why, but I'm just proud of you. You're an incredibly brave person."

She wondered if he knew just how hard it was for her to be brave every morning, but she smiled anyway, because hearing it still made her feel warmer, lighter. "Thank you," she mumbled, reaching forward to hug him, her chin resting on his shoulder as he hugged her back. Squeezing her for a moment before pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of her head.

"Come on, Sirius is waiting with hot chocolate, and I'm afraid he'll drink them all if we don't claim ours," Remus joked as he stood, causing the girl to stifle a laugh, knowing that his joke would most likely be true if she didn't hurry.

She followed, flickering the light off behind her and allowing herself to enter into her bubble. Her bubble where everything was full of light and smiles, her bubble where she would sit and read or play piano while Remus and Sirius sat around her. A bubble where she pretends nothing could hurt either of them.

She would lay safe from the horrors that plague her life, just for a little while, before reality would set back in.

And it always returned.