CHAPTER SIX
night swimming

𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

THE FIRST THING COVE DOES WHEN she gets back into the castle is go directly to the Hospital Wing.

  Trepidation broils in her stomach. She's only been once before and it was back in fourth year to visit one of her dorm mates, Jodie Fawley, after she took a nasty fall in a Quidditch match. It still smells strongly of potions and muggle chemicals, cabinets full of mysterious glass bottles lining the walls. The linoleum floors give her sore eyes, but she's unsure whether it's a side effect from her condition or just poor interior design. It's fairly deserted inside, a smattering of beds occupied by patients that are suffering a peculiar range of maladies. Cove just hopes she isn't being too disruptive.

  She heads straight for Madam Pomfrey's office, the sound of her shoes on the floor colliding with the loud silence. Her less injured hand knocks on the oaken door, making her wince at the lightning bolts of pain that shoot up her arm. By the time she's been called inside, it occurs to her that she actually has no clue what her excuse will be. Cove decides that lying won't do her any good against a medical professional and rules it out, so she settles on telling her everything.

  Finding the right words to explain her situation to Madam Pomfrey proves to be the trickiest part. She can't find the easiest way to soften the blow, so she has to put it bluntly and hope that it isn't so shocking that she's refused help. Her explanation is a bit muddled up, the details are knotted in areas that don't make sense, though it looks as though she got the point across. She's managing to confuse herself the more she elaborates so she just stops and waits for a reaction.

  Madam Pomfrey sits behind her desk quietly, cradling a cup of tea in her hands. Neither of them say anything for a good few minutes as she processes the news. Thankfully, it looks like this isn't the most distressing news she's ever received.

She smiles hesitantly. "Go and find a free bed to wait on. I'll be with you in two shakes of a lamb's tail, dear."

Cove obliges. There's one next to the window, made up so neatly that she feels guilty making creases in the sheets. It takes her embarrassingly long to sit down when she's trying to be mindful of her injuries. Her satchel lands carelessly by her feet. Scratch marks from her newfound claws trace up to her shoulders like fresh tattoos, weeping ichor onto the pristine white bed beneath her. She winces at the crimson stains, hoping that the house elves wouldn't have to go through too much trouble getting them clean again.

  Boredom leeching her brain, she begins to stare at her arms pensively. She notices that her right hand is worsening much faster than her left, the scratches on her dominant arm already closing up. The hairs on her forearms are thickening as well, almost trying to replicate the sealskin hidden away in her bag. It makes her anxiety grow ten times bigger.

  Luckily, Madam Pomfrey appears and closes the curtains around them securely. "Alright," she says quietly. "Let me have a look."

  Featherlight touches coast over her flesh, over her bones that are trying to melt into a different anatomy altogether. With a wave of her wand, the cuts are all healed over — leaving a few white scars raised here and there. She tuts at the state of her, clasping onto her hand to gauge the tiny claws her fingernails are sharpening into. Cove's rings are soon discarded on a dish to try and free the webs conjoining her fingers. Her eyes catch the encrusting of blood on the silver, throat constricting tensely.

  "When's your birthday?" Madam Pomfrey asks out of the blue.

  "What? I—"

In the blink of an eye, her soft touch flourishes into something more firm and she snaps Cove's forearm back into place. She hisses through clenched teeth but Madam Pomfrey completely ignores her and flicks her wand, a roll of gauze appearing in her palm within seconds. It shimmers under the light, making it evident that a charm is interwoven in the material.

  "How does the other arm feel?"

  "Not as bad."

  Madam Pomfrey gives her an odd look. "Is it your dominant hand?"

  Cove nods.

  "I see. Presumably, your human cells will be fighting to keep you... well, to keep you human against the seal cells. Since your dominant hand is more crucial to you in your current form, the human cells are fighting harder for that control of your left hand."

  This just makes Cove more lost. "How does that work, then?"

  "I'm a healer, my dear," Pomfrey says tersely. "Not a veterinarian."

  "Sorry," she apologises.

"Now, I prescribe a nice long swim," she says, voice dropped to a whisper to save anyone overhearing. "You have to be mindful of your transformations, pet. It's unhealthy for a selkie as young as yourself to change so infrequently. And don't take those off unless I'm here to assist you. It's all part of the healing process."

Cove wonders how Pomfrey knows all this. From school, most likely. Or maybe she did want to be a vet once upon a time.

  "What happens to the bandages when I do transform?" she asks, feeling slightly stupid. "I mean— I dunno, would they not get wet?"

  "When you're a seal, I've enchanted it to disappear for some natural healing time but your flipper will still hurt, so you've got to be extremely careful with it. It will reappear, unchanged, when you become human again."

  "Oh," Cove replies. "That's alright then."

"It's not very serious. I'd say you're free to go," Pomfrey declares. "Come back to see me whenever you need the bandages changed. Have a drop of this tonic if it begins to irritate you, and it's extremely vital that you keep that balance I was talking about. Even if it means splashing about in the bath for a minute or two."

That makes Cove laugh.

"Thank you," she says sincerely. "I will."

The curtains are drawn open. "I'll be expecting you back soon, Miss Henderson."

Cove looks out the window, watching as the sun dips below the horizon. She smiles at Madam Pomfrey and promptly seizes the opportunity, trudging out toward the Black Lake as night falls around her.

°•.•°•.•°•.•°

AN OWL CRIES IN THE CANOPY, COOING into the darkness for companionship. The world is still, solemn in its slumber as the nocturnal animals shake off a day's worth of sleep. Constellations glimmer without the restraint of light pollution, breaking through the thin stretch of purple clouds dressing the heavens. Rocks strike against her bare feet as she nears the water's edge, the ebb and flow of the waves pulling her in close.

  Cold water laps at her ankles. She's left her things hidden safely behind a rock, sealskin hugging her shoulders to fight against the nipping autumn chill. At least the Black Lake stretches far enough in front of her that she doesn't have to worry about feeling claustrophobic. She hesitates for a moment before submerging herself, worrying that the creatures living in the loch wouldn't take kindly to an outsider diving straight in. Cove has heard horror stories about the merfolk and the Giant Squid since her very first day of school, which definitely limits how comfortable she feels in these uncharted waters.

  But transformation feels healing. Her flipper is slightly tender, but gliding through the water as if she's made of starlight causes her to forget all about it. Her eyes adjust, allowing her to see every strand of seaweed and every seashell on the lake bed. Little fish wriggle out of her path fearfully, swimming deeper into the depths to avoid the rampant seal tearing through their home. She dives further toward the bottom of the lake without a care in the world, drifting past the warm lights in the Slytherin common room as just another beast in the night.

  She feels empowered. Every worry she has as a human girl lifts from her shoulders, leaving her as just a seal freely floating through the waters. It's only when she spots the merfolk village that she begins to drift back up to the shallows. They're territorial enough to chase her out with their tridents and spears.

Her head breaks the surface soon after she's made her escape, whiskers twitching. She takes in the refreshing air contentedly, searching the stars in the sky for any that she might recognise. Her nose twitches as it adjusts from the underwater scents to the ones on the surface, scoping out her surroundings as her eyes adjust.

A howl breaks through the night.

Cove frowns. There aren't wild wolves here anymore, are there? Surely not. Her black eyes catch onto the full moon's pearly reflection in the water, slimming into thin slits. It dawns on her instantly. She sinks back into the water, heart thudding violently in her chest.

  A werewolf.

author's note!

hmmm i wonder who that could possibly be