The stone walls were painted with ancient runes. They hadn’t needed chains to hold you captive—only magic.

This was even worse than the curse itself. Being bound to transform into a wolf was bad enough—but being held captive by two hunters was far worse.

You hadn’t growled. You hadn’t bitten. What could you have done against two wizards? Nothing at all.

You lay in the middle of the room, at least grateful for the heat of the fireplace warming your fur. Then the door creaked open, and they entered.

Barty and Regulus.

They had returned from another hunt.

You looked at them, searching - for what, you weren't sure. You still didn't understand why they were keeping you here. What did they want from you?

Barty felt your gaze and approached, kneeling beside you. He studied you as he always did.

Regulus took off his shirt, smirking at the sight of Barty kneeling before you. "She’s... different," he murmured. “This isn’t just some beast. There’s something else in her. Look at the eyes.”

“She,” Barty echoed, almost mockingly. “You’ve already decided it’s female?”

You held her gaze in silence. You didn't growl. That would only confirm what they thought you were. A creature. A threat. A prize.

Even if the wolf stirred, it was kept at bay by their presence. Human proximity had always calmed the storm. Not enough to reverse the curse, but enough to keep it at bay. Just barely.

What they didn't know was that there was still a human heart beneath the fur - that your hands had once held books, not claws; that your voice had once laughed, once pleaded for the curse to end.

They saw only the creature before them. The monster. Dangerous. Unknown.

"Do you think she understands us?" Barty chuckled. "It's just a magical creature. Nothing more."

Regulus stepped closer, tossing his shirt over a chair. “I don’t know,” he said. “Look at her.” His fingers hovered near your muzzle—not touching, but close enough.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” he said, his voice low, almost curious.