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The word ‘father’ rotted in her mouth. Not too long ago, Twig would have called the man in front of her that without a second thought. She had no reason not to; he raised her and he loved her, did whatever he could to make sure she was safe. That’s what fathers did, after all.

Things changed during Twig’s third year at Hogwarts. For the past two years, she was used to dealing with odd looks and murmurings from her classmates, but it wasn’t really anything she paid attention to. She had friends, and that was all that mattered, but then they started to not want to spend time with her anymore, because, at least of what they claimed, they heard about her and her father. Twig couldn’t remember what prompted her curiosity, but from what she was hearing, she wanted to make sure if there was any truth to it.

Professor Snape was a honest, if brutally blunt man. As harsh as he was, he had no reason to lie to his pupils. On top of that, Twig knew that he knew Fenrir. Surely, he’d know if these rumors had any water to them, right?

Snape had not spared her feelings with the truth. Twig thought she had been prepared to hear it, holding onto some distant hope that most of the rumors had been false. It did more than sting; it gutted her, and left a poisonous toad in her stomach. She hadn’t stopped feeling ill since.

Summer vacation was now here. As Twig sat in the old beat up car, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at her father’s face. She had no idea where they were heading; Fenrir had relocated again since she was at school, a common thing that she had been used to all her life. She had been told the reason was to keep safe; now she knows it was to stay hidden, undetectable.

Twig dared a glance in his direction. Fenrir looked as he always had; a careworn face brutalized by years of harsh weather and fighting; she noticed a new scar under his eye. Too small to have been from another werewolf. He drummed his long, gnarled fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, those long, yellowed nails glinting briefly in the sunlight. For a moment, Twig imagined them covered in blood. Blood of other children. How could he claim to love and care about her when he hurt so many others like her?

Forcing herself to look away, Twig instead tried to focus on the car beside of them. A bright blue truck, a young man was adjusting his tie in the mirror, smoothing his brown hair back. Just a normal muggle, on his way to do normal muggle things, like office work, worrying about ordinary muggle things, like taxes.

Traffic started to move again. Twig watched as the blue truck pulled away down another road, before she shifted in her seat, holding her carry-on bag on her lap. She looked over again, this time catching her father’s steely blue gaze.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Twig.” He stated. Twig wished that he’d stop looking at her; those eyes that she once found comfort in were now scrutinizing her, making her feel smaller. “Normally you’d be chattin’ off. What’s up?”

Such a casual, lightly concerned tone. Twig wondered if it was genuine, or if he was playing up the part of a concerned parent. He had been lying to her successfully her whole life; if he was lying about what he did and why they had to move a lot, did he also lie about caring for her?

“I’m tired.” She lied. Fenrir cocked an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you sleep?”

“No..I was too nervous.” That wasn’t a lie; she had been stressing over coming home, spending three months with the man she clearly did not know as well as she thought she did.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You passed your classes, didn’t you?” He pulled off down a dirt road that led down through a field of cows grazing. “Snape kept me updated with your school progress. You did exceedingly well this year, except for flying.”

“I’m scared of heights,” Twig defended, “Wolves don’t belong in the sky, you told me that when I asked for you to teach me before.”

“That I did.” Greyback smiled gently, understanding, “And Madam Hooch won’t make you if you don’t want to; be lucky you have her as your flying instructor instead of the one I had when I was there.”

“What did your instructor do?”

“He took our class up to the Astronomy tower and made us jump. If we refused, he pushed us. Fly or die, as he said.”

“And did anyone die?”

“Nope. Oddly effective motivator, isn’t it?”

Twig couldn’t help but chuckle; for a moment, she had forgotten why she had been unwilling to return with him in the first place, but the dark cloud settled over her again, the weight back in her stomach.

www.deviantart.com/radrapo/art…

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Twig is a Harry Potter OC, her father being Fenrir Greyback.

Description

The word ‘father’ rotted in her mouth. Not too long ago, Twig would have called the man in front of her that without a second thought. She had no reason not to; he raised her and he loved her, did whatever he could to make sure she was safe. That’s what fathers did, after all.

Things changed during Twig’s third year at Hogwarts. For the past two years, she was used to dealing with odd looks and murmurings from her classmates, but it wasn’t really anything she paid attention to. She had friends, and that was all that mattered, but then they started to not want to spend time with her anymore, because, at least of what they claimed, they heard about her and her father. Twig couldn’t remember what prompted her curiosity, but from what she was hearing, she wanted to make sure if there was any truth to it.

Professor Snape was a honest, if brutally blunt man. As harsh as he was, he had no reason to lie to his pupils. On top of that, Twig knew that he knew Fenrir. Surely, he’d know if these rumors had any water to them, right?

Snape had not spared her feelings with the truth. Twig thought she had been prepared to hear it, holding onto some distant hope that most of the rumors had been false. It did more than sting; it gutted her, and left a poisonous toad in her stomach. She hadn’t stopped feeling ill since.

Summer vacation was now here. As Twig sat in the old beat up car, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at her father’s face. She had no idea where they were heading; Fenrir had relocated again since she was at school, a common thing that she had been used to all her life. She had been told the reason was to keep safe; now she knows it was to stay hidden, undetectable.

Twig dared a glance in his direction. Fenrir looked as he always had; a careworn face brutalized by years of harsh weather and fighting; she noticed a new scar under his eye. Too small to have been from another werewolf. He drummed his long, gnarled fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, those long, yellowed nails glinting briefly in the sunlight. For a moment, Twig imagined them covered in blood. Blood of other children. How could he claim to love and care about her when he hurt so many others like her?

Forcing herself to look away, Twig instead tried to focus on the car beside of them. A bright blue truck, a young man was adjusting his tie in the mirror, smoothing his brown hair back. Just a normal muggle, on his way to do normal muggle things, like office work, worrying about ordinary muggle things, like taxes.

Traffic started to move again. Twig watched as the blue truck pulled away down another road, before she shifted in her seat, holding her carry-on bag on her lap. She looked over again, this time catching her father’s steely blue gaze.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Twig.” He stated. Twig wished that he’d stop looking at her; those eyes that she once found comfort in were now scrutinizing her, making her feel smaller. “Normally you’d be chattin’ off. What’s up?”

Such a casual, lightly concerned tone. Twig wondered if it was genuine, or if he was playing up the part of a concerned parent. He had been lying to her successfully her whole life; if he was lying about what he did and why they had to move a lot, did he also lie about caring for her?

“I’m tired.” She lied. Fenrir cocked an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you sleep?”

“No..I was too nervous.” That wasn’t a lie; she had been stressing over coming home, spending three months with the man she clearly did not know as well as she thought she did.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You passed your classes, didn’t you?” He pulled off down a dirt road that led down through a field of cows grazing. “Snape kept me updated with your school progress. You did exceedingly well this year, except for flying.”

“I’m scared of heights,” Twig defended, “Wolves don’t belong in the sky, you told me that when I asked for you to teach me before.”

“That I did.” Greyback smiled gently, understanding, “And Madam Hooch won’t make you if you don’t want to; be lucky you have her as your flying instructor instead of the one I had when I was there.”

“What did your instructor do?”

“He took our class up to the Astronomy tower and made us jump. If we refused, he pushed us. Fly or die, as he said.”

“And did anyone die?”

“Nope. Oddly effective motivator, isn’t it?”

Twig couldn’t help but chuckle; for a moment, she had forgotten why she had been unwilling to return with him in the first place, but the dark cloud settled over her again, the weight back in her stomach.

www.deviantart.com/radrapo/art…

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Twig is a Harry Potter OC, her father being Fenrir Greyback.