A Call With no Answer Solo Finished

Tesla paced in the darkness of the lonely cellar room. The door was heavy, made from the iconic ebony wood the Blackwood name hailed from. It locked from the outside, and there were deep clawed gouges in the walls and floor, chunks of stone and wood torn out from years past. The sight made something in Tes’s stomach clench in mourning, knowing perfectly well what had made this room a place with such signs of damage and destruction. It was done by Tesla’s own mother, ages ago, when she’d first been turned into a werewolf. Stuck in an unprepared family, choosing to save face rather than ask for help hunting down the wolfsbane potion that would have given her safer transformations.

That was over 30 years ago, before Momma was sent to England, before her first instance of magic, before going to Hogwarts as one of the few places a Werewolf could safely get an education. The tragedy of her momma’s suffering choked Tes, tears bubbling in her eyes. This room held a history of loneliness and violence, something any werewolf with access to the necessary medicine should never have to experience, but so many did.

Tesla herself was going on three years as a werewolf, and she had never once been without her potion. The transformation was still inevitable, still painful, still terrifying. But there was something else about it. Something almost… Freeing. For one night, to become an animal with a human mind but not human ability, meant that all one could do was whatever their heart desired without shame. Tes’s full moons consisted of running through open fields, playing fetch, napping by the couch, and so much more with her mums by her side. Even at Hogwarts, it consisted of spending time with Colin, Lucian, Nara, and the other wolves she’d met. Singing songs in howls through the walls, chewing up wooden furniture, and staring longingly at the forest she so desired to run in.

The transformations weren’t a punishment for something she couldn’t control, despite how some saw lycanthropy. They were simply a symptom of her disease, one that was managed by the medicine Hogwarts so kindly provided. To Tes, it was no different from any condition that required medication to manage it. To Tesla’s grandmother, it was something shameful, something to be hidden away in this cellar in a dark room full of gouges. It wasn’t cruel or meant to hurt Tes or her momma, it was simply “How things were done.”

Tes hated every time her grandmother said that to her. When she’d first gotten to Blackwood manor she’d asked about everything, from the decor choices to the food on their plates to why she had to wear the robes she was given. Every single question was answered with “It's just how things are done.” usually followed by some pointed comments about how questions like that weren’t ladylike, and how Tes should be polite and go with what her hostess asked of her without complaint. Over the full month in the gloomy mansion Tes had learned to stop asking and bite her tongue.

That didn't prevent the yelling that erupted when Elaine showed Tesla where she’d be spending the full moon in the manor. After a full year cooped up in the shack, with a single full moon spent free from confined spaces right before she came to America, Tes had been desperate for any chance to stretch her legs as a wolf. She’d been on her best behavior all week, following every request her grandmother made, saying “Yes ma’am” and “No ma’am” and minding her words and manners, brushing her hair and scrubbing her nails and sitting inside staying out of the dirt and sunlight. She’d hoped that if she could prove she could act the “proper” way as a human, Elaine could see her wolf form wasn't so different. That it was a part of her, and that she wasn’t broken. That she could learn. That she wasn’t a monster.

She’d asked to be let out for the night, to run around the massive, isolated property, to sleep by the fire with her kindhearted uncle, his husband, and their son, to eat copious amount of food as her stomach turned ravenous in the face of her body’s transformation. In answer, Elaine had showed her the room, and despite Tesla’s protests that she didn’t need it with the potion, she’d just shaken her head with genuine sadness and pity and said that it was how it had to be. That the potion wasn’t reliable enough. That Tesla might run off. That she might hurt someone.

The feeling of betrayal had hit Tesla with more force than she'd thought possible for her sunny disposition. Elaine had been there the first full moon of August! She had seen the way Tesla and her momma left through the front door to the darkened fields of the farm, and came back the next morning laughing and unharmed. She knew! She knew it would be okay! Yet, here Tes was, locked in a gloomy cellar in the basement, sniffling pathetically and wiping her nose on the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, throwing herself down on the twin-sized mattress moved down there in case she tried to sleep. In the moment, Tes had screamed, and cried, throwing a chair made of ebony wood on the floor, also made of that damned black wood, hard enough to damage both and startle her grandmother into covering her mouth in shock. She'd stood, lips pressed together, waiting for Tesla to wear herself out. She loved her granddaughter with all her heart, and Tesla knew that, but the woman's cold patience, as though Tes's outburst was nothing more than an inconvenience to sit through, meant that Tesla couldn't drag up an ounce of guilt or embarrassment for her actions.

When she'd finally yelled herself hoarse, and broken the decorations on the table, and stomped around and slammed doors just for the noise, Tes stopped in the middle of the room, sat down, and started crying. At that point Elaine moved forward, kneeling on the flawlessly polished floors, wrapping Tes in a hug, cradling her head to her shoulder. "It's just the way it is, dear. It's not so bad. It's just for one night. Now, dry your face. It's splotchy and ugly to cry like this. Come, we'll go read a book. That ought to relax you," she said soothingly, before standing and leading Tes from the room by her arm. Tesla didn't have the energy to argue. To say that mum said letting your feelings out was more important, or that being trapped inside really would be the worst thing for the free-spirited girl, or to say that reading books was sometimes more stressful than it was worth, with the urge to get up and move so strong that the words felt like shackles.

As the night progressed and the full moon rose, Tesla learned what it meant to be lonely. She remembered confessing to Colin at the beginning of the school year that she was scared to transform by herself at Hogwarts, without her momma there to comfort her. Even when she wasn't with anyone, feeling lonely and sorry for herself in the shack, she could always count on someone to answer her howl, and remind her they were out there. Tonight, she yelled for someone to come let her out so she wouldn't be trapped in the little room alone, and when her mouth turned into a muzzle and she couldn't form the words with her canine tongue, she howled and whined and barked, begging for anyone to come help her. She didn't even want out anymore, she just wanted someone to be with her, to hold her and scratch behind her ears and read her a book. There was only silence in response.

She almost wished she didn't take the wolfsbane potion, so her mind wouldn't be her own. So she wouldn't know that no matter how hard she tried to open the door, it was locked on the other side. So she wouldn't have the conscious knowledge that it was her grandmother's misguided love and stubborn refusal to listen to her that landed Tes here. Scratching desperately at a wooden door, leaving layer after layer of gouges in the wood over top the ones left by her mother, until she wore herself out and finally went to lay down on the mattress on the floor. It had blankets, and a pillow, but Tes struggled to keep them on the bed with only a canine mouth and useless paws to move them. Whining with defeat, she dragged the blanket into a cold corner, pulling it so it covered her head and blocked out the room, curling up into a ball and pretending she was back home with someone to tuck her in. Her heart ached with loneliness, and she didn't move until the moon began to set again.

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Mentioning:@Colin McCoire, @Lucian Mornstern, @Nara Alora Wordcount:1499 Color=#7D6608
❁❀ Tesla "Tes" Stone❀❁ Hufflepuff ^꧁Optimism is not ignorance^꧂
Stats: Stamina: 6 | Evasion: 5 | Strength: 9 | Wisdom: 4 | ArcPower: 4 |Accuracy: 7
Abilities: Werewolf and Broken Broomshaft
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