Obviously, she's outta my league (Ame)

[Connor Pine]

Connor didn’t like crowds, so he couldn’t really explain why he was wandering through the middle of Hogsmeade in the middle of the day. Especially since it seemed like everybody in the entire magical school up the road had turned up, making the streets noisy and bustling and punctuated by shrieks of childish laughter. He hunched his shoulders, shrinking back against a building to avoid getting shouldered out of the way and kept his head down not paying an iota of attention to the people passing by. As soon as it got a little less busy he was getting out of there. It was almost the full moon anyway, time to move on, head somewhere remote so he didn’t hurt anybody.

He was just contemplating what have for lunch, a nice broth from the Three Broomsticks or give in to the growing craving for a rare steak, when an unusual, but unfortunately familiar scent caught his nose. Connor’s head shot up, peering out at the crowd to try and spot the source. His heart started beating in his chest, had the Were he’d ditched a while back finally caught up with him? No, he might have recognised the species, but he didn’t know the person. Did they know he was here?

His eyes locked onto the back of a blonde head and he took a deep breath just to be sure. Yep, definitely a werewolf. He pushed away from the wall, slipping as quickly after her as the crowds would allow, grateful that he was now upwind so he could follow undetected. Unless she’d already made him on the way passed and this was just a way to lure him away from the public... Still, she smelt quite nice, kind of like cinnamon. Not that smelling nice proved her innocence, he’d learned that the hard way.

Connor almost stopped following when she left the busy main street and cut into an alleyway. This was too much like a trap for his liking. Curiosity got the better of him, though, he had to know. He’d never met a female werewolf before, nor had he come across any as young as this one. She smelt faintly of the school, but Connor knew she couldn’t be a student. He’d very quickly learned that far from being accepting of the unusual magical folk were just as suspicious of him as everyone else. In the alley he didn’t have the advantage of being up wind any more either, he’d just have to hope the almost overwhelming reek of the rubbish bins against the wall covered his scent.

[Amelia Pace]

When the full moon came nearer, Amelia didn’t like spending her time in that close proximity with many people. She got agitated and annoyed, and she’d rather stay away from them than, metaphorically, bite people’s heads off. Despite her better judgement though she had arranged to meet up with August, if anybody wasn’t going to say something to annoy her, it was him. He just seemed to be like that. In true Amelia fashion, however, she’d left leaving the castle to the last possible minute before having to rush off towards the village at a fast pace.

Since her pre-Christmas excursions to the village and the surrounding area, she had attempted to steer clear of any alleyways or any place where unsavoury characters could hang out and wait to attack her, but to go around the long way, she would be forced to be ten minutes later than she already was, so had to cut through between the shops through one of the shorter alley ways. Her unease at the thought of having to by-pass this way was heightened when she could have sworn she felt somebody watching her. She’d had that feeling here before, and it hadn’t turned out so well for her then.

Nothing smelt off, nor could she see anybody lurking in the shadows of the alleyway as she approached it. So she decided to continue on her way regardless. She pulled her black coat around her body, crossing her arms across her chest, as if that would some her save her from any attacking vampires. A stake perhaps, that might have been some use, but she hadn’t taken to carrying one around, not quite yet. One more attack, then maybe. But she wasn’t looking to being bitten again today, at least not by a vampire in broad daylight.

Walking through the alley, picking up her pace because of the uneasy feeling that somebody was following her, watching her, just kept clinging to her. She couldn’t shake it, little did she realise quite at that moment that it was because, yes, she was being watched. The smell of the rubbish filled her nostrils, making it near impossible to tell if anybody was following her, but she could make something out, something that was familiar, but nothing she’d remembered smelling before. But she had, every month, in the mornings after a change. She could smell the remains of a wolf, not a vampire.

She only turned her attention to the individual when she heard him stand on a piece of broken glass in the alley way. Stopping in her footsteps and turning on the balls of her feet, she faced him. A scruffy looking 20-something guy. She squinted at him in some attempted to tell him to fuck the hell off, but couldn’t fight the urge inside of her, that stupid part of her brain that constantly got her in trouble, that told her to say something, anything ,just to see what he wanted with her, ”Why the hell are you following me?” She stated bluntly, looking him up and down and standing her ground.

[Connor Pine]

There was a big different to tracking some poor rabbit in the wood when he was a wolf, and tracking a person down an alley way when he was a human. Connor didn’t make a habit of following people. In fact, he usually tried to avoid them. And that hunter’s instinct wasn’t coming naturally to him at all today, despite the short time to the full moon. So it really wasn’t a surprise that he’d put the girl on edge, although the suspicious part of his brain (the biggest part) thought it might be her anticipation for a trap about to spring that he was sensing.

Then he trod on a piece of broken glass, the shard breaking into yet more pieces as it crunched loudly under his shabby trainer. She turned to face him and Connor was tempted to try and duck back behind one of the bins, out of sight. He’d never be able to move that fast though, no matter how much he wanted to avoid confrontation. He did step back though, instantly on the defensive, even as he took another deep sniff of the air to confirm that was indeed what he suspected.

There was no denying it, she was definitely a Were, but Connor still couldn’t shake off that niggling doubt that maybe just this once his nose had let him down. It was just that she didn’t look like any werewolf he’d ever met. Her hair was soft and blonde, it looked nice. Civilised. All the werewolves he’d ever bumped into had been harsh, their hair coarse, unbrushed and copious. Much like his own. Not to mention the perpetual stubble, which frustrated him so much he usually bypassed shaving altogether. It was only going to grow back.

Not that he thought she should have facial hair. Connor may have been painfully unaware of the fairer sex, but he knew they generally didn’t have beards. He was interrupted from this bizarre train of thought, and also the growing desire to get closer and sniff her more, by her question. Well, more like accusation; ”Because you’re a werewolf,” he said gruffly. Connor never would be very good at subtlety, he laid all his cards on the table from the start. He narrowed his eyes at her, she couldn’t really think he didn’t know, surely she smelt it on him too.

[Amelia Pace]

Unlike the stranger, Amelia wasn’t used to hunting, and tracking and using her supped up senses to follow things. To hunt. She’d never changed in the wild since she’d known she was a Were. The first time she’d not been able to get out of the small walled garden her family owned back in Winchester, and since she’d locked herself up either at home or at school, usually in the company of Professor Connery. She wasn’t used to really smelling things, she occasionally heard things she wouldn’t normally, or got a heads up on people approaching her, but that was it. She wasn’t aware that werewolves really let themselves roam free.

His truthful declaration made her withdraw slightly. She took a step back from him and the scowl on her face disappeared, being replaced with a shocked, albeit worried look. Nobody had ever come straight out with it before. Taking a sharp intake of breath she knew what that smell was she had sensed earlier. It wasn’t her, it was him. That’s how he knew, he was a werewolf. She’d never met another one before, not since the night she was attacked, and to be brutally honest, it worried her.

Taking in his features, he unkempt hair, unshaven face, he certainly looked the part, he was built bigger than her, and could probably squish her like a bug. It wasn’t the best of ideas to be standoffish against somebody with his stature. Her brow creased in confusion, she wanted to try and divert his attentions, maybe she could convince him he was wrong? ”How dare you?” she managed, a barely audible whisper. In that moment she knew denying it to him wouldn’t work. He looked as if he had lived with this a long time, she wasn’t going to be able to lie to him.

”What would you know?” she managed to snap out quite forcibly, once again protectively wrapping her arms about her body. She hoped to keep enough space between her and him as possible. All sorts of thoughts were milling through her mind; Did Connery know about this kid? Surely if he was in Hogsmeade he was an ex-Hogwarts student? If he wasn’t, why the hell was he there. Had he known she was about before today? Had he been watching her for weeks? So many questions, and the chance of her asking them to him? Zero.

[Connor Pine]

Connor wasn’t normally one to take risks, to deviate from his routine, or what little routine you could get when you were drifting from one town to the next with no fixed residence or employment. Following girls into alleyways definitely wasn’t part of the plan, it was the kind of thing that got you noticed and getting noticed was something he’d spent a lifetime learning to avoid. And the fact that she was a werewolf didn’t help either. Common sense was screaming at him that he should get the hell away and while his instincts and his nose normally backed that well honed and usually heeded urge to flee for once he couldn’t help feeling drawn to her.

Of course he knew what werewolves were like. Connor definitely hadn’t led a sheltered life, in fact he’d pretty much been thrown in at the deep end from the start. He knew some of them could be pretty territorial and normally when he caught scent of one he just dropped everything and prayed to God they hadn’t smelt him first. Usually if you were out of town before they realised they couldn’t be bothered to track you down. Connor might be in pretty good shape, but in a fight with an angry, fully grown and experienced werewolf on home turf he had a snowball’s hope in hell of winning.

This girl was different though, there was something off about the usual smell of the wolf on her, like it was tainted by something acrid and the unmistakable linger of magic. Not that it was easy to tell with the overwhelming reek of rubbish beside them and the scent of magic that seemed to be seeping from every brick in Hogsmeade. Nor was she reacting in at all the way he’d expected. She looked startled and a little bit skittish like she might bolt at any second. So much so that he almost didn’t reply to her outraged question as he was standing perfectly still and watching her, like her hunter trying not to frighten off his prey.

As accusations went it was one Connor had heard before. Well... the first part was anyway and usually when he was caught rifling through a bin because so close to a change it could be hard to resist the smell of a few scraps of perfectly good leftover chicken. Even so he couldn’t claim to really understand it; of course he dared to, it was true wasn’t it? She was a Were and getting her tail in a twist about it wasn’t going to change things. ”You smell.” He pointed out; in a way he thought was perfectly reasonable and growing just bold enough to take a step towards her again. ”But kinda funny, like magic too.”

[Amelia Pace]

Amelia was probably as opposite to Connor as you could get. She took stupid risks, all the time, and spent the time that there wasn’t a full moon surrounding herself in people. She didn’t want to accept the animal she was forced to be. Far from it. She’d rather ignore it all together and live on normally. She didn’t use her wolf side in her everyday life if she could help it. Sure, her reflexes were better, she was speedier than she would have been, and she could always tell if she needed a shower, but though were things that appeared to her to be beyond her control.

Most unlike Connor, Amelia locked herself away on the full moon. She would live in a cage in her Head of House’s office, and hide. She wouldn’t disagree, she knew that was exactly what she was doing. Hiding. She knew she was hiding herself away but that was the only way to deal with it she knew, or had even ever contemplated. Another thing they differed on was that she had never come across another werewolf since the night she had been attacked. All of her instincts were telling her to run from him, run and hide, and wait it out until he was gone. Bit late now, though. He’d easily catch her if he wanted.

”You smell,” she scoffed, ”Charming!” she retorted, narrowing her eyes at him, ”Did your mother teach you no manners as a child?” she said as he took a step toward her. It was tempting now to run. Or step back, but her stubbornness kicked in and her human mind was ordering her to stand her ground, no matter how much instinct was telling her to leg it. Her human side always won, not that that was necessarily a good thing the majority of the time, but she knew running now would only land her in deeper trouble, so reason was winning.

”Odd that,” she started, ”being a wizarding town and everything. What did you expect?” She shook her head, and with a sudden intake of breath she was suddenly aware why he found this bizarre. She took a step towards him, giving herself a better chance of smelling his scent over the rubbish, ”You don’t have that, that tinge,” she frowned. So Connery wouldn’t have known about this guy? If he had, he’d have told her, surely? Knowing that she’d only find out anyway. Just like she had, ”Who are you?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

[Connor Pine]

Connor couldn’t comprehend the thought of being locked away at the full moon. The two occasions that he had been trapped in human company during his transformations were painful memories, even over a decade later he woke sweating from vivid nightmares of the events. The first was coupled with the overwhelming fear of his first change and a rather rude awakening to the reality that his parents were capable of cruelty towards their child. The second had filled him with a wild, out of control terror, his nature in his wolf form only amplified by the human surroundings as he desperately tried to escape the foster home.

No, Connor would not be changing in the company of other humans; it was much safer for him to run away. To changing in private and make sure the only things in any danger were rabbits, deer and other woodland animals. It gave him at least the illusion of control to choose where he changed, to know that even though he couldn’t stop the transformation he was able to do it in safety and freedom. He wasn’t going to be trying that weird magic drink he’d heard of a few times either, not that he could afford it. Connor did not trust the solutions other people presented him; he’d heard promises from adults too many times and knew they only ended up with somebody getting hurt and betrayed.

He looked up from the cobble he’d been scuffing listlessly with the toe of his shoe as the girl commented on his mother, his widening in surprise. It had been a long time since he’d thought about his family, choosing to bury all memories of them. Connor could still remember his mother’s smell, soft and floral, the way her hair had tickled his face when she leaned down to kiss him and that sad smile on her face as she’s hurried onto the train the last time he’d ever seen her. ”No,” He answered her question simply. Connor didn’t elaborate and even if he hadn’t been secretive by nature he still wouldn’t have realised that it might have been an appropriate moment to share a little of his past with her.

”I didn’t expect anything.” When you had expectations, dared to think you already knew the outcome, you got lazy. That was when things went wrong and Connor had had enough wrong to last him a lifetime. ”I’m not magic.” He could have lied, as he knew at least enough about the strange little village to know that non-magical folk were few and far between, but why bother when she’d be able to smell the lie. ”Connor.” He stuck his hand out to shake; a gesture he knew usually followed greeting somebody. He could have liked about his name too, although the reason he’d chosen the truth again was beyond him.

[Amelia Pace]

When it was all you’d ever known, you couldn’t really imagine a life doing things differently. At least, that’s what Amelia believed. She’d never known a change without a potion or without a cage since her first. And that seemed so long ago to her now. In reality, she’d only lived with this affliction for about a third of the time this stranger had, but it still seemed like so long. She’d fallen into a rhythm. For the first part of the cycle she’d be worn out, from the previous one. A little ill, a little withdraw. After a few days, she’d be back. She’d kick arse on the Quidditch field and be the leader she was good at being. And so she would remain for a few weeks, until a few days before the end of the cycle, on the border of a change, she’d become skittish and easily annoyed and just need to escape from people. Like now.

She was always weary of people she didn’t know, and with the full moon a couple of days away, she really wasn’t in the mood for strangers, especially ones that so easily called her on what she was. She prided herself on people no knowing. She had a close circuit of friends, only one of them knew. She let out a short laugh at his curt reply. ’Figures’ she thought, shaking her head at him slightly. Every parent taught their child a few of the basics, obviously he’d not had much influence from his parents has a child. If Amelia wasn’t so sceptic of this new arrival, she may have asked him why. As it happened, she didn’t think it appropriate.

She raised her eyebrows, she had heard of low expectations, but none? Bit of an extreme pessimist view. ”If you had no expectations, why did you follow me? You expected me to be a werewolf. That’s an expectation,” she said, taking another few gaps towards him. He didn’t pose much of a threat to her currently, sure he was bigger, stronger and knew a hell of a lot more about her, but he didn’t look like the killing kind. He was without that glint that the vampire had. Now she had expectations. She expected the first werewolf she’d meet to be horrible, tough and on the verge of wanting her dead for being on their territory. This guy had shot that one right of the water and stamped on it.

”I can smell that,”[/b[ she said, admittedly a little weirded out by her own sense of smell. She was close enough now that he out stretched hand reached in-between them., perfectly in the middle. She looked at it for a second, then up to his face, he didn’t look like he was about to attack her. She gingerly reached out her own monthly paw. Grasping his and shaking it slightly, ”Amelia,” she introduced herself, letting go out his hand.

[Connor Pine]

Connor wasn’t sure why she laughed, he didn’t think he’d said anything funny, but he just chalked it up to another aspect of human interaction he’d failed to understand. It wasn’t like his sense of humour was that developed anyway, he rarely got to know anybody well enough to crack a joke or two with them and any puns were lost on him with his rather limited vocabulary. In fact Connor didn’t get the chance to laugh nearly enough, perhaps he just needed somebody to teach him how.

He wasn’t used to people questioning him either, not because he was arrogant enough to expect people to listen to him, but because he never volunteered enough of himself for them to interrogate. Her contradiction startled him into momentary silence and he shrugged mutely, cocking his head to one side thoughtfully. ”I knew you were a Were.” He tapped his nose by way of explanation; if there was one thing Connor trusted it was his sense of smell. ”I didn’t know how you’d act though, you’re not like other werewolves.” He wasn’t sure why he’d treated her differently from every other wolf he’d met though.

For the first time since Connor had followed Ame into the alleyway and this strange exchange had begun, he smiled. It was a small one, tentative, like he wasn’t sure how to do it. And really he was pretty rusty; he hadn’t had much reason to crack a smile in the last decade. So it was no surprise he wasn’t quick to do it. It was just a welcome change to talk to somebody who saw the world the way he did, or rather smell it. His fingers closed around hers as they shook and then as soon as she released her grip he shoved his hand deep into the pocket of his jeans. The only response he gave to her name was a curt nod. At this rate the silence between them would turn awkward; another triumph for Connor’s stunted social skill.

[Amelia Pace]

Amelia found this guy strange. He didn’t appear to react to things like anybody else would. Maybe it was just how he’d learnt to cope with the harsh reality of being a werewolf in a world where nobody trusted or respected you. Where they all looked down on you, as much as possible, so that they make it clear that they want you to go die in a hole; somewhere. Amelia couldn’t say she could blame this guy for not being forward with his information or being all that open with his reactions. In her limited experience with their affliction, it only got you hurt in the end.

She couldn’t help the questioning look that padded over her features at his comment. She wasn’t? Then again, she had never met another werewolf; she didn’t know how they acted, let alone had anybody to learn behaviour from, ”How am I different?” she couldn’t resist to ask. She figured it was something to do with temperament or the way she acted, but she didn’t want to accept the monster within, and most probably never would accept who she really was. But she was only the wolf one night a month, why should she accept something that took shape so rarely? ”Tell me, how should I be acting?” she enquired, he clearly knew so much more than her.

She couldn’t help but mirror his small smile. It was something she’s learnt as a child, ‘Smile when somebody smiles at you, Amelia, it makes the world a better place.’ His grip was firm, yet still so unsure, so untrusting. She studied his features in a pathetic attempt to read them. With no prevail, she frowned, ”What do you want with me, Connor?” she asked, not really knowing what she was expecting now. A long winded explanation from somebody who appear so mono-syllabic. Probably not, but some sort of fast wouldn’t go a miss. Some sort of indication that he wasn’t just some kind of psychokiller out for a good time.