turn your face to the moonlight [werewolf one-shot]

[Deleted]

june 2013
a muggle neighborhood

Jamie Bowen was seven years old, and she was sitting on her back porch. The night was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but there was a stiff breeze blowing through the little girl's blonde hair, and that kept her just cool enough not to want to retreat back inside for the night. Her mother was letting her stay up late tonight so that she could catch fireflies, but Jamie's plastic jar was empty, and she wasn't particularly inclined to go chasing the little bugs when every single one she had attempted to catch had eluded her so far. Now she was watching the lightning bugs skip across the blades of grass, occasionally distracting herself when she thought she saw a frog hopping through the fronds. After her third time swearing she saw a frog, Jamie finally decided to investigate further. She hopped off the porch, and then looked furtively over her shoulder. Mum didn't like it when she went exploring on her own, especially since their backyard was right against the edge of the woods... But Jamie wasn't going to go into the woods! She was seven, so she was smarter than that. She just wanted to see whether or not the frog was real.

Jamie crouched down, her bare feet digging into the dry ground as she leaned forward. Ribbit. Yes, there was a frog! Jamie almost jumped herself, but her mum had told her a hundred times that if she wanted to try to catch any of the frogs, she needed to hold still. So she did, until she saw another flicker of movement. Jamie waddled forward, still crouched down, sure that she was going to be able to catch the frog. Bit by bit, she got closer to the frog, still vaguely aware of the treeline. It was fine, though, because she was still a few meters away... a meter away... a few centimeters away... When Jamie realized she was in the forest, she immediately wanted to turn around. But she had almost caught the frog! She had even touched it!

The next few moments were haze. Jamie heard a branch snapping, a sound that a frog definitely couldn't have made. She paused a moment, preparing to scream, but when the wolf leaped at her from the shadows, Jamie didn't make a sound. Her throat was closed up, and she didn't know what was happening, and all that there was were two golden eyes, and... And the sound that the animal had made, the snarl, was enough to freeze anyone in their tracks, and Jamie was only seven, only seven, and she was hurt! She didn't know why the wolf was gone now, but it had bitten her, it had bitten her hand, and she was hurt, and she was bleeding, and she felt funny...

Jamie stumbled back to the porch, a wail finally coming from her throat. The back door opened, and her mum came out, and everything was going to be okay, because mummy was here. "Shh, darling." She said, taking Jamie into her arms. She was holding something in her hand, a tiny bottle with a liquid that shone silver in the moonlight. "Be a good girl and show me your hand, Jamie." The little girl was still crying, but she obeyed her mother, extending her hand, palm up, towards her mother. The sound of a bottle being uncorked was barely able to be heard over the chorus of crickets, which had continued on chirping as if there wasn't a child with blood spilling out of her hand at an alarming rate in their midst.

The liquid, whatever it was, felt like cold fire. At first it was icy, and it felt good through the needles of pain, but then it burned, which only made Jamie cry harder. When her mother was done pouring it, Jamie clutched her hand back to her chest... but the bleeding had stopped. "What's happening, mummy?" Jamie asked, still confused as to what had just happened. There weren't supposed to be any wolves in their woods, and the wolves weren't supposed to attack people, and when they did, why did they just bite the hand? Even Jamie could tell that there was something wrong with the situation, even though she wasn't old enough or wise enough to figure out exactly what that was.

"I'll tell you when you're older, Jay." Jamie's mother said quietly. "Now come inside with me, why won't you?" Jamie was too bewildered to do anything other than follow, leaving the empty firefly jar behind on the porch as she trailed behind her mother. The locks on the back door clicked behind them, and Jamie felt a shiver running up her spine. Even though the burning and the needled of pain were gone, her hand was still aching - throbbing, really. "We're going to go to a special place now, Jamie." Her mother said quietly. "And then they're going to help you." Jamie nodded mutely at her mother, stepping closer to wrap her arms around the older woman's legs. Everything was scary, and there were monsters outside, and she knew that when there were monsters, her mummy was the one who chased them away.

Jamie didn't remember going to the special place. In fact, she didn't remember the night at all. The next morning, when she woke up, all she remembered was going outside to catch fireflies... But there were new scars on her hands. She had dreams, sometimes, about catching frogs and wandering into the woods and of monsters attacking her, but those dreams, her mummy told her, were silly nightmares. Everything was going to be okay. But the next time the moonlight poured over her and the crickets chirped and the fireflies flickered... Jamie became the monster that she feared.