Chapter 15

She hadn't expected to face her family face-to-face. 

Remus had entered the impressive train carriage first, likely to find a seat, though Skuld suspected he simply wanted to return to the compartment where everything had begun.

She should have gone with him, but her pet had escaped, and she'd clashed with her mother.

Her sister, sitting beside her, gasped in surprise.

The truth was, living with Remus had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. Her dark circles had practically disappeared, she'd gained a little weight since he fed her well, her hair looked more vibrant, softer, and slightly more orange, and she had new clothes.

Remus didn't like her wearing old clothes, especially when they were her brother's hand-me-downs.

Oh, and she should show Ginny Weasley that she had her own pet now, a beautiful cat.

Nahúm meowed when he saw his owner, sensing the shift in her mood.

"Nike?" Ginny asked, her voice laced with envy as she took in Skuld's changed appearance.

"Skuld," Skuld corrected, her voice firm. "My name is Skuld, not Nike. It's... nice to see you, I guess." She forced a smile.

"How does... eh... Remo treat you?" Molly asked, her voice hesitant, as if unsure of how to approach her daughter.

They still had the same reactions toward her, doubtful and distant.

"I don't understand why you insist on changing your name," Molly frowned, her tone sharp. She seemed angry, indifferent to the fact that Skuld had been gone for nearly a year. Skuld could sense the displeasure radiating from her mother. "My name is Skuld, and his name is Remus."

Ginny opened her brown eyes wide in surprise, as did their mother.

Skuld Weasley had disappeared from her family and the world for a time...

But now she was back, better than ever.

. . . . .

She entered the compartment where Remus slept peacefully. She knew that his full moons exhausted him to the core, so she carefully placed her luggage in its spot, covered him with her coat, and retrieved a book that Remus had recommended she read from her briefcase.

Nahúm curled up next to Remus, and Skuld settled into her seat, sinking into the pages of her book.

Remus really loved to read, and so did Skuld.

Maybe that's why they worked so well together.

Wuthering Heights.

She remembered what Remus had told her when they were standing in front of the bookshelf at the house.

"You can't skip any of these books," he had said, pointing to the row of titles. "Reading is like traveling, and you'd be missing out on the best portkeys if you don't read these."

Skuld's eyes had lit up at his words.

"Which one do you recommend to start with?" she'd asked.

"This one," he'd said without hesitation, pulling a book off the shelf. The cover read Wuthering Heights. "It brings back the best memories."

"Did they give it to you?" she'd asked, taking the book carefully in her hands as if it might break just by looking at it.

"That's right," Remus had nodded, sighing nostalgically as he glanced at the newspaper on the table.

The compartment door opened.

"Good morning," Remus greeted, hiding a sly smile.

Skuld knew that Ron had always been envious of her, and she couldn't wait to watch him burn with jealousy when he saw her so well taken care of. He never talked about love, he had everything he could want, but not acceptance. She had found that with Remus.

Ron had grown up with applause and admiration. Skuld had grown up with scorn, leftovers, and hatred.

That was why Ron would never understand what she felt now, acceptance. She no longer needed a pack of redheads to feel like she had a family. Remus was her family now. Nahúm was her loyal companion. Slytherin was her house, the one place that had never looked down on her.

"Nike?" Ron hesitated, studying her carefully.

"No, Ronald," Skuld denied, closing the book in her lap and memorizing the page number. "I'm Skuld, not Nike."

"It's nice to see you, Skuld!" Hermione smiled brightly.

Skuld smiled back, grateful for the warmth in her friend's voice.

Hermione had sent her letters over the summer, letters that had been a small lifeline in a world where only Draco, Blaise, and Remus seemed to care.

. . . . .

Harry couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked different, shinier, like a new person. More beautiful. Stronger, emotionally.

"Who is he?" Ron asked, pointing to the sleeping man on the other side of the compartment. Remus was wrapped in a coat, with Nahúm curled up on his lap.

"Professor Remus J. Lupin," Hermione responded quickly, and Skuld stifled a small laugh.

She was smiling as she read, but Harry knew that she was listening to every word of their conversation. She never truly laughed at a line in her book, at least not when someone was watching. He noticed the small glimmer in her eyes whenever she was lost in a book, or practicing a spell, or when she smiled at moments no one else noticed. And there was something about her, something intriguing, dangerous even. 

He couldn't quite understand it yet.

. . . . .

The lights flickered and then went out as the train came to an abrupt stop.

It was raining, and for some reason, Skuld felt slightly uncomfortable. 

A commotion broke out.

People in the hallway rushed about, prefects shouted for silence, and wild ideas filled the air.

Then she felt the cold creeping in.

Dementors.

Her mind instantly went to those creatures, and she noticed Remus nudge her foot lightly, an unspoken warning.

She had been awake for a while, almost since Draco had come to tease Harry and invite her to join him. But she hadn't wanted to leave Remus and Nahúm alone. She should have, though.

She pulled her wand out and began to play with it, already thinking of the memory she would need to push away the dark creatures. But what if the painful memories overwhelmed her too much? 

She still couldn't forget how they had treated her that day, their coldness, their indifference. She had never received an apology or any remorse for their behavior. The anger burned inside her.

Ignoring Hermione and Harry, she left the compartment, even though she'd left her notebook open to a recently written page,

"Then the darkness was present, and with it, the cold and fear."

She had done it again.

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