"John...I'm really sorry...I-I never wanted anyone to see that thing face-to-face a-and..." Freddie managed as he finished his sweet.

"Bah! Don't worry about it." John replied, still seeming completely unfazed by the incident. "In fact, it was kinda cool. It's like watching a horror movie. You're scared in the moment, but then you realise nothing's going to hurt you."

"But it could've; that's my whole point. If it broke through that door, you could've been killed."

"Probably not. It might've just bit me once and left me there. Once the deed's done, those things rarely go back." He replied, taking out his fourth sweet from his bag and breaking it in two. "Besides, with every charm I put on there, a giant wouldn't get through the door, let alone a werewolf."

Freddie shuddered at the word but stuffed the sweet into his mouth nonetheless. His mind was still spinning from how different this morning was; from having John there to not having countless cuts along his body. It felt quite nice to look at his arms and not see any new scars and just see the old ones. Perhaps John had a point about having company there; however, not in the way he must've originally thought.

A question that had been lingering at the back of Freddie's mind came forward. "How were you not scared?"

"Hm...Honestly, I don't know. Maybe 'cause I didn't grow up being told that they were real or just cause animals really don't scare me. Really though, it was just a big wolf, that's all." He answered after downing another pastry. "As I said, it's like a horror movie. You can be scared in the moment but once you see that nothing will get you, you're fine."

Then why am I so afraid of it? He asked himself as he toyed around with a little pebble in his hand. Was it the lack of control? Being forced to see the thing that nearly killed him? Or was it the fact that he could easily hurt or even kill someone if that thing broke loose. He rubbed his arm, wincing once his hand wrapped around the bandages that John had applied. In that moment, he realised that this one wouldn't scar. It wasn't a bite or cut from that beast, it was just an ordinary cut from a shoddy door.

That whole night had been so different and Freddie had been so terrified of that change: having John around, not having Brian there, and not waking up in excruciating agony from what could be considered another werewolf attack; even now the word sounded wrong and out of place, but there wasn't that rush of anxiety that came with the mere word passing through his mind. Among the changes was the ability to eat and Freddie had to admit that it felt so nice to eat something afterwards instead of starving himself because he was so banged up from the previous night's endeavors. John kept shoving more food towards him, even though Freddie couldn't keep up with his pace, then again, no one really could keep up with John, especially if he was hungry.

"Go on Fred, you still look pale as a ghost." John coerced, handing him another sweet despite there being three right near him.

"How many do you have in there?" He asked.

"Loads. Visited Hogsmeade last month with Rog. I'd assume you weren't feeling up to it 'cause of the moon but hey, maybe this month you could! I mean, we're able to go out tomorrow, might be nice for you to get out for once."

Freddie had to agree that it was a nice idea to head on out for once. But it just felt...wrong, especially without Brian. They hardly ever went to Hogsmeade anymore since those visits took place right after the moon had come by. Maybe it's what he needed-to keep up with all this change. Besides, what would happen? He didn't have any scars he'd have to explain and there was no moon. He couldn't help but smile at the thought. He'd missed the warm interior of both Zonko's and Honeyduke's and he hadn't had a meal up at any of the pubs in ages. By the look on his face, he assumed that John got his answer and beamed in response.

"It'll be grand!" He exclaimed as he shoved another chocolate frog into his mouth, tossing another Circe card into his massive pile of cards. "When was the last time you guys went there?"

"Oh lord, must've been at the start of our fifth year." He answered, thinking back to the very day. "We'd gotten back and decided to head up there and we spent the whole night up at the Three Broomsticks and got hammered off of some butterbeer-took a lot of it if we're being honest-then we headed back up here, him laughing his ass off as I just rambled on and on about whatever nonsense came out of my mouth." He smiled sadly, the memory of them wobbling behind the other students fresh in his mind as he toyed around with the edge of his sleeve. "It was quite nice...I still miss being out at night every now and then."

"No reason you can't do so. Werewolves aren't out that often anyway!" John joked, Freddie forcing another smile.

"Yeah, yeah I guess you're right."

"'Course I'm right! You ever see one out past the full moon? If so, I wanna know where 'cause that'll be a sight!" John exclaimed, that curious spark returning to his eyes.

"Guess not...Really don't wanna see one again anyway."

John turned his attention towards him after finishing another muffin. "C'mon Fred, if that same one was still around here, there would've been more attacks. I bet that it was someone visiting Hogsmeade who was infected as well and thought that the forest would be safe. I mean, they tell us to avoid the forest for a reason. You've a good reason to be scared of it, but don't worry, it won't come back again."

Freddie shrugged in response, half believing John's words due to his logical side but those fears persisted despite this. Those shadows of fear lurked behind him, warning him of what he'd seen before; the colors that faded around him until the world was engulfed in black, his mind wondering if he'd ever see the sky again in its last minutes of consciousness until he awoke in that little room with all those bandages wrapped around him.

"I know why you're scared. Brian explained some of it to me and believe me, I wish I knew why that particular one was so fervent in its attack. But there's so little research done on them...My best guess is that it had been cooped up for so long..."

"Why though?" Freddie finally asked as he rubbed that spot where it had bit him. "Why me?"

"Wish I had an answer to that too, Fred." John replied. "Sometimes, we're just stuck in shitty situations for no reason at all."

Freddie glanced over to John, that despondent darkness growing over his eyes. He could only imagine what he was thinking at the moment but he figured he got the gist of it. As John shook his head to clear his mind, Freddie laid his hand on his shoulder, earning a thankful smile from the little fourth-year.

"C'mon," Freddie began as he got up, "I bet breakfast is gonna be ready soon."

"Thank God!" John shouted with a wide grin on his face. "I'm starving!"

...

"Where the hell were you two!?" Roger exclaimed just as soon as they walked into the dining hall. "I came up to Hufflepuff's house last night and they said they hadn't seen you in hours! Same went for Ravenclaw!"

John's face went pale though Freddie had already thought up a quick excuse if anything happened with Roger. "John was helping me study for a bit since Brian's out. We ended up passing out in the library until the librarian finally kicked us out."

"Gee, don't you two take a break from studying? No wonder you look like hell, Fred." Roger commented.

"Very kind of you Rog." He replied as he took his seat at the Ravenclaw table. The other two, seeming to not care about houses at the moment, grabbed some food from the table, Roger gladly reaching right over a first year's head to grab a piece of bacon. When Roger's name was called from the Gryffindor table, he vanished, tugging John along with him, Freddie just barely able to see him turn a bright red as they rushed off. Oddly enough, it felt quite nice to be by himself for a few minutes. He'd just spent a whole night with John and hadn't seen Brian for over twenty-four hours-something that he was quite happy about-and Roger would show up later on asking for help on his O.W.Ls. so he'd have time then to socialise. But for now, he could feel his imaginary social meter diminish down to zero and all he wanted right now was to go sit outside with a plate of food and enjoy some peace and quiet. Freddie couldn't help but feel happy in that moment. Often times it would take a week to feel better again-physically and mentally-so he could eat normally again; now here he was scoffing down bacon, eggs, and toast like someone who just got rescued from an island.

Following his current desire, Freddie lifted his plate up from the table and loaded even more food onto the plate and poured a fresh cup of pumpkin juice before heading outside with his meal in tow; a few others got the idea before him and were gladly eating their leftover breakfast out in the courtyard: each gold plate glittered in the sunlight, the chatter of the students echoed off the surrounding walls of the castle, and, even with his own food in front of him, Freddie could still smell that smoky hickory flavor from the other students' breakfasts.

He took a seat by himself near one of the large trees in the yard. In two months there would be brilliant flowers blooming out of the branches and the birds would be building their nests. For now, he was greeted with the sight of owls flying out of the Owlery, the faint outline of some packages being visible all the way down below. Despite the current chill in the air, it was one of the more palatable colds where instead of freezing your bones it felt clean and fresh, like a piece of mint gum.

Once his stomach was satiated, he leant back against the tree and laid his hands atop the grass, the little bits of frost melting against his fingertips. Much like yesterday, there was this sense of peace once the cold hit his skin. Maybe it was the thin layer of goosebumps along his arms when the wind hit them or the chill that lingered upon his hand after touching the frozen ground; all he knew for sure was that it was nice. That's all it was: nice.

The "nice" vanished in an instant though at the sound of multiple screams coming from inside the Great Hall. Freddie, like others in the courtyard, abandoned their dishes and ran over to see what had happened.

"How dare you-you arrogant!"

"Roger quit it!"

Upon entering, he saw Roger wrestling to get out of John's grip, soon succeeding and lunging towards a massive seventh year, the green and silver scarf he had been wearing now hanging loosely off his neck.

"Anteoculatia!" Roger howled at the same time the seventh year shot back with his own jinx. The seventh year's bright orange struck Roger at the same time his dark red struck his opponent. John stared down in shock among the crowd of students. Laughter made its way into the crowd as the effects of both attacks soon became apparent. Upon the seventh year sat two massive horns, each resembling that of a dragon's, while multiple little, black spikes began shooting out of Roger's skin.

"Cau-" Roger began.

"ENOUGH!"

Both Jenk and McGonagall had entered the scene, to which the commotion instantly died down. Jenk's eyes resembled McGonagall's, for each had a burning fire in their eyes. Roger leapt up, the spikes still continuing to grow as he gave his explanation.

"He called John a mudblood! Tell me how I'm not supposed to do something!"

"Is this true Mr. Canos?" Jenk asked, both he and McGonagall sharing a similar look of disgust and anger.

The Slytherin looked lost for words as he turned his head away, perhaps to now shield the horns from view.

"Nevertheless Taylor, you're not to attack another student. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"And fifteen from Slytherin." Jenk said.

"Why more for-" The seventh year began.

"Because you're a seventh year and should know better by now. Also, we do not accept language like that in our school." Jenk explained. "Now, both of you get up to the hospital wing and get checked out."

Both glared at each other with the utmost contempt, John and Freddie sharing a quick look before hurrying behind Roger and Canos. No one spoke the whole way, not until they were outside the door to the infirmary.

"Oh after you oh mighty pureblood! Surely one who is in Slytherin is much more worthy than I!" Roger snarled, going into a deep bow to which Canos just scoffed and marched into the infirmary.

"I don't even get what the big deal is." John commented.

"You'd think with how much you know about spells and beasts that you'd know what a common slur entails." Freddie replied, to which John looked down at the ground, obviously ashamed. "Look, it's just a terrible curse that people like Canos use against anyone who comes from muggle families. It's vile but those ideas usually stay with Slytherin or older families anyway. You ever hear of the Blacks? Or Malfoys? Those families are sick with how they view 'purity'. I doubt any of them would even consider shaking hands with anyone who isn't from some pure family. Can only wonder what happened to that new Black that he ended up in Gryffindor."

"That why Roger got so hopped up?"

"'Course it was. He knows what he meant and he should've known better than to say that with Roger around. Surprised that he didn't break his nose first."

"You know Roger though: he thinks after he acts. Why else do you think he's covered in spikes now? Although..." John's face flushed a dark red. "It was quite sweet how quick he acted."

"Someone's got a protector now, does he?" Freddie teased, John's face turning crimson as he looked down and giggled quietly.

"He's great you know. Hell I bet he'd take on chimaera for all three of us." John replied. "He's already taken a shot for you. Remember last year when you were getting in a fight with Mcelroy over Quidditch?"

"Oh good lord that was something! Poor Rog was scuttling around as a bunny for a few moments after that. Surprised Mcelroy wasn't in more trouble for that. He did make an adorable rabbit though! Wish I got a picture!"

Freddie couldn't help smile at the memory but feel a twinge of guilt; all the times Roger had stuck up for them over the years and taken spells right to the chest to keep them out of harm's way made him wonder why on earth he couldn't trust him with this secret of his. What was he on about, of course he knew. Even with Roger's disdain for anyone taunting John about his ancestry, he shared one common thing with the others of the wizarding world: hatred of what he was. He had good reason but so many others didn't. Maybe he should still tell him about it...It might change how he views them if he knew that all of them weren't like that.

Alas, he decided against it as soon as Roger reappeared, now free of the back spikes along his body. Instantly, he rushed over to John and gave him a massive hug, uttering a quick apology and a few curses directed towards Canos.

"Look at what his blood got him: giant dragon horns on his head that'll keep him in there for a few hours." Roger commented before separating. He turned to him. "Well you look better now that you've eaten. Looked like a bloody ghost earlier!"

"You try getting enough sleep with all the homework they're piling up on us. I know you've complained enough about Slughorn's essays on all those potions you've to remember."

"At least I know when to eat and sleep. Can't lie though, I've fallen asleep reading about that sleeping draught he makes us remember. You might need that after staying up almost all night!"

Freddie rolled his eyes before turning to look at John for a quick moment and nodding to shake any worries that might've entered his mind. It was then that he did remember that blasted essay Jenk wanted by Tuesday and evoked a heavy groan from him.

"What's with Jenk and essays? Does he really enjoy reading them that much?" He asked aloud. "You've seen what he asks for! Three rolls of parchment on nonverbal spells! Does he think we have infinite time?!" Freddie growled, though he suddenly realised his mistake. They weren't on nonverbal spells yet. They were still reviewing counter-curses and here he was moaning about a topic for March. But, neither seemed to notice-one of the benefits of both not being in his year.

"Believe me, I know." Roger commented. He stopped and straightened himself out. "You must go and write at least four rolls of parchment on defensive spells and their various uses! If you don't, there's no hope for you to get anything above a D on your O.W.Ls!" Roger scoffed. "What an encouraging man!"

"And look what happened! I wrote four and got an E. Shows what he knows." Freddie replied.

"You're in Ravenclaw; this stuff's basically ingrained into your blood at this point!" Roger exclaimed.

"And John's reasoning for good grades in Jenk's class?" Freddie asked.

"Because he's a brown-noser with him. And a massive nerd at that." Roger taunted, earning a harsh shove from John that ended with both laughing.

"You know you can leave after this year." Freddie remarked.

"And give that class up?! That's one of the most exciting classes here! I mean, compared to Ancient Studies, this is way more interesting. God knows why I chose that instead of Music."

"You just want an excuse to listen to music instead of doing any work." Freddie added.

"Easy class if you ask me. I heard there's supposed to be a real dementor in Jenk's class on Monday!"

"I doubt it. There's no way Dumbledore's allowing a dementor on school grounds. Those things can wreck absolute havoc if not controlled."

"Ministry's got that under control though! Besides, I could probably take it on!"

"You know a patronus?"

"No but-"

"Roger, nothing else'll work, trust me." Freddie replied.

There was quiet for a few moments as they headed for the courtyard. Outside sat multitude of students, many of which were enjoying the fresh air with books sat in their laps and hushed gossip about their fellow classmates. A few eyes fell on them, but nobody came up to confront them about the fight. Freddie figured that by now they would've formulated their own theories and made the scene up in their head. They took a seat by the edge where the sun wasn't beating down on them, Roger instantly resuming their conversation from earlier, but choosing a different topic this time around.

"You hear from Bri yet?" Roger asked.

"No." He paused for a moment. "Not too keen on hearing from him either."

"Good Lord you two are the picture perfect couple and now you won't speak to one another! What the hell did you even fight about?"

He looked to John for a moment, but saw that he was far too absorbed in his book to have realised what Roger had asked. Freddie waited, wondering if this was a good time to bring up the topic of his condition to Roger. It wasn't fair that he was kept in the dark and what were the odds that he'd react angrily? Now that he thought about it, they were quite high. Roger wasn't exactly the most level headed person out there and he could only imagine him instantly lashing out at him in front of the entire school. Even if he didn't do that, he would most likely be angry at him for lying about it for so long. His nerves got the better of him and he used his go-to excuse instead.

"It was just everything at once. His over protectiveness and stubbornness and just-ugh! I wish he was back though...I miss havin' him around."

"Me too. Bloke's always got a level head on his shoulders. Then again, can't complain since he didn't get the opportunity to make fun of my spikes." Roger added, Freddie giving a quick smile.

"Thanks for reminding me to tell him that. I just hope he'll speak to me after that Howler I sent him."

...

To most eyes, at least in the Wizarding World, he and his mother wouldn't be too out of place. Brian felt that he himself was just fine in his outfit and holding a little "get well soon" balloon for his father, but his mother was a different story. He had persuaded her to not wear any Muggle clothing since he didn't want too many eyes on them while they were there. He could only imagine the situation if she had worn her massive flowery skirt and cardigan with a bizzare orange and blue tie she had found. In any other instance, he would've found it funny. But not now, not when he had to wait for his father to come out from the hospital after suffering a heart attack. His mother hadn't known, how he wished she had said that instead of the doctors not knowing. But Brian couldn't blame her, she wasn't thinking straight at the time and neither had he. God how he could hit himself now; leaving just a note for Freddie after enduring such a row and then not saying a word to him! How could he just leave that for him and expect anything less than a Howler from him?

Those words were still etched into his mind. Every last word that was filled with pure rage and betrayal. Had he not been alone when it went off, he was sure his mother would've heard it and everything inside of it. From the hurtful curses Freddie had hurled at him through the letter to the very source of their argument. Brian didn't dare try to imagine the situation now if she had found out what Freddie's condition was.

BRIAN HAROLD MAY ARE YOU MAD?! YOU LEAVE A SINGLE NOTE FOR ME TO FIND AND DON'T BOTHER SAYING ANOTHER WORD ABOUT IT TO ME OR ANYONE ELSE?! ARE YOU INSANE? YOU PROBABLY ARE IF YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS GOING TO BE OKAY! AND ON THE NIGHT OF THE FULL MOON! OF ALL THE DAYS YOU CHOSE TO LEAVE, IT WAS TODAY! AM I REALLY THAT MUCH OF A BOTHER TO YOU? A RIGHT PRICK UP YOUR ASS THAT YOU WANTED TO GET AWAY FROM ME THAT BADLY?! I DON'T EVEN THINK YOUR FATHER'S EVEN SICK! YOU JUST WANTED TO GET AWAY DIDN'T YOU? DON'T WANNA BE NEAR THE BIG BAD WOLF RIGHT!? STAY THERE THEN! FUCK AROUND WITH SOME OTHER BLOKE THEN THAT WON'T HOLD YOU BACK!

Before he could even read it again, it had burst into blazing hot flames, soon laying in a pile of ashes at his feet. The poor owl in front of him had looked completely shocked at the loud letter and Brian's ears had still been ringing for a good minute after the explosion of anger had erupted from that little message.

His heart sank as he looked down at the pristine white floor in front of him. How could he let his anger get the better of him? To do that to Freddie was just cruel...He needed him and he just left. God knows what happened to him that night...Perhaps he should send a letter back to him, just so that he could hear from him once more. No...He shouldn't. Freddie would probably hurl another Howler at him for thinking that writing something again would solve the problem. Maybe he should write to John, at least then he wouldn't deal with any anger from him.

"Brian, love, what's wrong?" His mother asked.

"Hm?" He asked, just now remembering that she was right next to him and could probably see the hurt expression on his face.

"Is it something with school? Or Freddie?" She asked.

Brian tugged at his chest, wishing that it would remove the heavy weight that was growing upon it. He despised having to lie to his mother about Freddie's condition. He could easily be honest about everything else in the world except this. She was a witch after all; Brian knew that she had to harbour some kind of prejudice against what Freddie was with her growing up with it all around her. And yet...she never openly expressed anything against them. Could she just be hiding it? Or did she really not care? Perhaps she was just hiding it because she never had to face anything that brought out her inner prejudices...

He sighed. "Yes, it's about Freddie. We had a massive fight before I had to leave and I just want to apologise in person..."

"Brian dear, it's alright. People fight and-"

"I know but we never do! I don't want to push him away because of me being too protective of him or-"

"Well, yes. You can't be too much of one thing or else it'll drive the other person mad. He's not a child, Bri. You don't have to protect him from everything. I'm sure he just wants some independence right now."

"But he sent a Howler...A real vicious one at that. What if he never wants to speak to me again?"

"Brian. Couples fight. It's healthy to do so every now and then because it gets it all out into the open. What matters is if you two can move on and work out what caused the fight instead."

"That's just stereotypical mom advice..."

"But it works. Why else do you think your father and I are still together?"

"Because you entertain him with magic."

"Oh stop it you!" his mother chided, each sharing a laugh a moment after.

It was quiet for only a few moments more; from the left hallway came his father and both of them ran right up to him, Brian sharing a massive bear hug with his father.

"Is everything gonna be alright?" She asked the nearby doctor, who was still staring at her vibrant ruby cloak in sheer awe.

"Y-yes ma'am." He replied. "Just keep him off his feet for a few days a-and he'll be just fine. Keep his stress levels low and try to keep any fattening foods out of the equation. Perhaps try to keep the cigarettes and alcohol out of the way too."

"I can't promise the last one. Harold does love his cigarettes."

His father smiled broadly while the doctor handed off a little sheet of paper to his mother. Brian tried to read it, but she put it away in her purse before he could even catch a single word off of it.

On the train ride home, Brian tried to be active in the conversation between his parents but found himself lacking any true interest. Did that make him a bad person? Surely he should want to listen to everything his father was saying or at least pay attention in case something happened again. And yet...his mind was too occupied on what was happening back at school; his mind mainly focused on John and Freddie. God knows what happened between them when he wasn't there and since there was no letter since the howler, Brian could only figure that both were furious with his previous behavior. Guilt tightened around his stomach; he should've stayed there with Freddie or perhaps brought him along. He knew what to do when the moon came around and, even if neither of them really like it, it still worked and kept everyone safe.

"Brian dear, c'mon now."

He snapped out of his thoughts and glanced up at his parents, both of which were staring at him and waiting for him to get off the train. Frantically apologising, he rushed out of the train and followed them down to the street where his father tried to hail one of the many taxis waiting by the station. As he fixed his cardigan, his mother gently tapped his shoulder, motioning for him to follow her.

"Is something wrong dear? You've been so caught up in your thoughts ever since you got home."

"Look mum, could we talk about this at home? I'm not up for talking about this in the middle of the station..."

"Long as you actually promise to speak about it when we get back home." She replied, giving him no time to properly respond as she turned around and headed back to his father.

...

Brian had never thought that a taxi ride could be so short; yet there he was, sitting outside of a desolate street, not a single person or car in sight once their ride vanished. His mother glanced around before pulling out her wand, the sun reflecting off the white aspen. A faint glow appeared at the tip and within seconds, a massive purple bus arrived, his father jumping back in shock.

"I know you're used to clinging onto me to get back home, Harold." His mother said. "But I don't think Apparition is a good idea right now."

A middle-aged woman stepped out of the bus and recited a passage off of a small sheet of parchment in one of the blandest tones Brian had ever heard. Once she finished, the three of them walked on, Brian taking a seat on one of the many beds while his mother made sure his father was situated on one of his own.

"Where ya off too, miss?" The dark lady asked.

"Heading down to 18 High Street, it's right by Little-"

"Little Hangleton, yes I know just the one!" She exclaimed, the bus instantly taking off at the end of her sentence.

As the world zoomed past him, Brian's attention drifted back into his thoughts. He should've brought Freddie, he just should've. They'd been home before during this time and nothing had happened. Yet he let his anger get the better of him and now three people were facing the price. What if John had gotten involved and gotten hurt? Or what if Freddie was bandaged up in the hospital wing at the school and rumours were flying around about how they had a werewolf student amongst them? Dumbledore would surely have him kicked out-what person in their right mind would let a werewolf attend school there-and Brian would be the one to blame.

He had to apologise, he just had to. Whether it was by owl or when he returned, he just had to say how he was sorry. Freddie trusted him and he threw that all away because of some petty nonsense that didn't matter in the long run. God how he wanted to just bash his head against a wall right now. How could he be so stupid? Out of all the things he could've done, this is what he decided to do?!

Brian shoved the thoughts away as they approached their house. It was a nice sight to see something familiar once again as the three of them headed out of the bus, each bidding their thanks to the driver and walking up towards their home.

The day felt far too short. From helping his father get situated to helping his mother out with simple chores around the house, the night came far too soon and Brian was now sitting on his bed, a sheet of parchment in front of him and a brand new quill on his right, the words flying about in his head but none of them coming together to form a coherent sentence. Couldn't this be as simple as writing an essay or talking about music? Even talking about sports would be easier than this! How on earth was he, the one who could keep calm in almost any situation, be the one so stuck to form a simple apology?

He paused; perhaps it wasn't a simple apology. There had been too many fights beforehand but they all felt like nothing compared to this one. Even without any yelling or throwing things, it still felt the most painful. Maybe it was the silence, maybe it was the separation, maybe it was the topic at hand; it was a topic they hardly ever wanted to spend more than few moments dwelling on and both of them had their reasons, though he could only fathom what Freddie's reasonings were besides the ones he chose to share with him.

A pain struck his chest: they'd shared so much together and to think that Freddie was keeping secrets from him, lying straight to his face about how he felt was killing him. You're doing the same thing: lying about how you're okay and how you're not afraid of him when you are. He shuddered; he despised whenever that thought came up but Brian had to admit it was true. He wasn't afraid of Freddie himself, it was that beast he was terrified of. Brian had seen what it could do first hand and didn't want to see that again nor be on the receiving end of its attack. For some reason, his mind occasionally had a hard time separating Freddie from that beast. It always showed up around the full moon and every time he had to see Freddie look so beaten down. But it wasn't the weakness, it was that dedication and bravery to try and not appear weak that scared him, because all it showed was a losing battle, one that Freddie fought every single month that he could never beat.

"Brian dear, come downstairs! Dinner's ready!"

He rubbed his eyes, looking down at the sheet of paper and jumping up as he saw the massive ink blot that covered almost the entire page. After vehemently swearing and tossing it into the nearby bin, Brian walked out of his room.

As he headed to the dining room, a loud thud sounded from above him. Ignoring the tantalizing smell of his mother's cooking, he headed to the back of the corridor, groaning as he pulled down the ladder that lead to their attic.

"Twilight, I swear if you knocked over something again, I'll personally serve you to the next cat that comes by this house!" He exclaimed, muttering even more swears as he lifted himself up into the attic.

Once again, a crash sounded, this time much louder than the previous one. A throaty growling began rumbling off the walls as more things fell and crashed to the ground. Before Brian could reach for his wand, a cavalcade of antiques fell to the ground, shattering into bits and pieces and revealing the massive shape of a grey beast, its orange eyes glowing amongst the darkness.

Unlike before, Brian froze in place, tightly gripping his wand and unable to say a single word. Ice-cold fear ran through his veins, his jaw clenching up from his body's worthless attempt to make itself seem invisible. His logical side fought back, telling him how it wasn't the full moon, how it was broad daylight, how there would be no possible way for this thing to be anything other than a mere boggart that had gotten up into this old attic.

"R-Riddikulus!" He shouted instinctively, watching as the spell slammed right into the snarling werewolf in front of him, only for it to be replaced with a decrepit image of Freddie, his skin paler than it had ever been as the multiple scratch wounds that were strewn across his body bled profusely, leaving puddles of black blood across the floor.

"Riddikulus!" He cried, the boggart shifting into another massive beast, this time being a werewolf he didn't recognize, however, he did recognize John, whose arm was currently locked between the jaws of the creature in front of him, its claws digging into his thigh.

"R-Riddikulus-" He shouted, seeing Roger take John's place, his eyes closed and head hanging back. "Riddikulus-" Freddie's body lay in front of him, the grey wolf from before snarling at him as he bit deeper into his leg, a cry echoing out of Freddie's mouth. "Riddikulus!"

"You did this." A frail, young Freddie said. He was basically skin and bones, his sunken eyes filled with pure malice. "You think you know everything. You thought you could protect me. You think and you think but you never do until it's too late." He removed his hand from his leg, showing a steady flow of blood from a fresh bite mark. The little thirteen-year-old glared at him before keeling over and letting out a strangled cry.

Brian could barely move; his eyes were stuck on the sight in front of him, tears blurring his sight as his knuckles turned white on his wand hand. The young Freddie writhed in pain, snarls and growls reverberating out of his throat as Brian immediately dove behind the antiques beside him, not wanting to face the sight any longer.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this! Any of it! I know I should've went with you, I know I should've done more, I should've done so much more and I didn't!" He bawled, his nails piercing the side of his chest through his jumper.

A high pitched echo sounded off the walls around him, Brian's stomach shrinking to the size of a pea. He covered his ears, trembling until the growling suddenly stopped, Brian not daring to look behind him to see the new sight the boggart would present him with. Within seconds of the silence, he felt something touch his shoulder, making him whip out his wand, pointing it straight in the face of his mother, her soft gaze staring at him with nothing but concern.

"Brian, Brian dear c'mon now, it was just a boggart. Nothing was going to happen."

"I-but-I...you-I don't-what..." He stuttered out.

"You can't be infected by a boggart. You don't have to worry about werewolves in this area either."

"It...It wasn't-You don't-" He whispered. "He was dead, right in front of me! All three of them! Roger, John, Freddie-dead! Ripped apart by that thing and I didn't know what to do!"

"Brian. John, Roger, and Freddie are all at Hogwarts. Do you honestly think Dumbledore wouldn't send you anything if something happened to them? Or that all three of them would say nothing if something happened to any of the others?"

"Ruth, dear, there's an owl down here!"

"Just take the letter from them and it'll leave!" She called downstairs. "Come now, it's all gone."

He took his mother's hand, still trembling at the ordeal while he tried to tell himself that it wasn't real, none of it was while the other half told him that it could be real if he made a mistake, even a simple one as not being there could lead to one of those becoming a reality. He had to get back there, he had to get back to Freddie, he had to get there before anything like had a chance to happen to those he cared about.