Do not own Glee. Do not own Harry Potter. Do not own the idea of lion!Quinn and kitty!Rachel.
Summary: Quinn and Rachel meet as prisoners in Azkaban three days before the 1996 mass escape.
A/N: I'm back and much sooner than I expected I would be. This is one of the stories I said I was thinking of at the end of Eternal Sunshine, and this is the only one that's pretty much entirely outlined. Though it is subject to change. The title is also subject to change, it's just too late/early to think of a clever one. I know that the summary is pretty vague, but I feel like if I give you any more information, the element of surprise for some upcoming events will be lost. So, sorry, but that one lined summary is all you're getting. But, I will tell you this: the setting of Azkaban is only in this chapter (So far. Remember: subject to change). The rest of the story is told with them as fugitives.
I was really worried about posting this story because I don't know how it'll be embraced. Hoping for the best. This was originally going to be a Hermione/Ginny story long ago. . . but I write for Faberry now. But that doesn't mean that Hermione/Ginny won't be in it ;)
Still hoping for the best. Let me know if I should continue.
Read. Ponder. Enjoy.
Three days before the mass breakout:
Quinn shut her eyes and listened to the laughter that rang out from numerous cells on her block of the Azkaban prison. She didn't think she'd ever hear the sound again, especially not here where happiness couldn't even be achieved in their greatest imaginations. She let out a weak cry of agony at the burn on the inside of her forearm. She looked down at the mark that marred her skin; it slithered there, taunting her, and she tried desperately to ignore the calling that had the prisoners rejoicing for the first time in years. She heard his voice all day, all night, in her fucking nightmares because dreams were a thing of the past, telling her and everyone that could hear him that the time has come. Rejoice. Join us in the fight for purity. The thought of biting off her arm crossed her mind and not for the first time. Tonight, the pain was near unbearable and the only thing that could numb it down just a little bit was to close her eyes and let her body change.
She all but collapsed to the floor, her body now that of a sickly thin lioness. Being an unregistered animagus had come in quite handy in regards of keeping at least a little bit of her sanity. The Dementors had a difficult time discerning the emotions of animals, but if anyone were to ask her, she wouldn't hesitate in telling them, yes, she is a bit crazy. Living in an endless fog of depression and despair tended to make most people insane, lion or not.
The fur also kept her warm at night.
Quinn shifted her large head so that it rested on her paws. She licked at the Dark Mark on the inside of her arm, now completely covered by a fine layer of fur. Even though the pain was number, it wasn't by much. It dulled down with every pass of her tongue before flaring up to its normal intensity. Eventually, she tired of licking (it doesn't take much anymore, she tires of just breathing now and days) and she closed her eyes, praying that some Goddess will show her mercy and allow her some sleep until the pain died down. But it kept her up, like it did every night, and she couldn't help the pitiful whine that escaped her throat.
Quinn snapped her eyes open and looked over at the steel bars of her cell. A small brown cat, almost black in the dim light of the prison, sat and stared at her from the other side, and Quinn could immediately tell that that was no cat. Its dark eyes were far too emotional, far too inquisitive for it to be just a regular feline. It was a human and a sudden fear spiked through Quinn's heart. She quickly changed with a gasp and scooted back until she hit the far wall of her cell. It would mean a fate worse than death if the Aurors were to find out about her ability and if that was who this cat was, then the Dementor's Kiss was what she had to look forward to. Merlin, she'd rather die. She brought her marked arm weakly to her chest and pulled her knees up as she waited.
The cat just watched her. After a few tense moments, it stood up and was skinny enough to squeeze between the bars of her cell. It sat down and stared at Quinn, its head tilted to the side in curiosity. When it seemed like it wasn't going to call for the Dementors, Quinn allowed her body to relax briefly before a fresh bout of pain scorched through her arm once again. She cried out softy and fell sideways to the ground, curling into a ball around her burning arm. Her eyes fell shut, tears leaked from behind the closed lids and she gritted her teeth as the pain moved through her body and in the distance, past the rushing blood in her ears, she could hear the happy shouts ringing all throughout the block.
When it finally lessened to just a simmering, throbbing burn, her body sagged in exhaustion and her chest heaved as she tried to gather her breath. She opened her eyes weakly and let her arm fall away from her chest. The snake of the Dark Mark was a little further out of the mouth of the skull and it wiggled like it drew breath. It's about to happen. Whatever it is, it's going to be huge. With the last bit of energy that she had, she morphed again to numb the pain once more. She shifted her eyes to the cat that she almost forgot was there. It was staring at her fur covered arm before shifting its dark eyes to her own. There was a fright that settled in them, along with another emotion that Quinn could easily discern as sadness. It was a look that she saw in every prisoner's eyes that walked by the cell; she has grown very accustomed to it. The eyes fell to Quinn's arm again before the cat stood up weakly and walked back out of her cell, casting the lion on more fleeting glance before walking away. Quinn closed her eyes.
A longing whine tumbled from her lips.
Two days before the mass breakout:
Quinn was curled up in the corner of her cell, nearly delirious from the lack of sleep, the constant depression and the burning pain in her arm. She weakly licked at the mark only once before her head thudded to the floor in exhaustion. The prisoners were cheering again, louder than any other night.
Merlin, she just wanted to go to sleep.
Quinn slowly trailed her eyes over to the cat that stood just on the inside of her cell. Her body tensed and twitched at the rolling waves of pain, more whining erupting from her mouth and she shut her eyes, feeling her body finally beginning to shut down. The soft tapping of paws approached her and she tiredly forced her eyes open in time to see the cat lie down next to her head. From this close up, she could see the cats ribs clearly outlined in the dark fur. She had just enough time to feel confused before her body could no longer take it and she dropped off into an exhausted sleep.
When she woke up in the morning she was alone and the pain started up once again.
One day before the mass breakout:
It was going to happen very soon. The pain was at its worst tonight; she didn't even have the energy to change. She shivered in the striped, torn outfit that provided little warmth to her body. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arm around them to keep out the freezing cold weather. It must've been snowing outside. Her left arm dangled uselessly by her side, twitching at the pain that continuously spiked through it. If only she had the energy to bite it off like she wanted to.
Quinn rolled her head back until it thudded against the wall and looked at the cat that sat in the middle of her cell. The pain seemed to lessen as she swallowed against the dryness of her throat, trying to remember how to work her voice.
"Hello again," she croaked out quietly. The cat blinked at her before it walked forward and morphed before her until a brunette woman in the same torn striped pajamas was leaning against the wall next to her. The woman brought her knees to her chest. Dark brown eyes met amazed hazel ones. The woman looked nothing but tired and gaunt.
"Hello," she whispered, tucking a strand of hair nervously behind her ear.
There was a lull in the conversation as they both tried to get used to being in the company of another person after so long. Quinn licked her dry lips, wincing again at the pain.
"What's your name?"
The woman wouldn't take her eyes off of her. "Rachel."
"Rachel," Quinn whispered, testing the name out on her lips. She cleared her throat. "I'm Quinn."
Rachel nodded, shifting around shyly. "It's, uh, n-nice to meet you."
If she could, Quinn would've smiled and laughed. Instead, she stayed quiet and they sat there in silence, listening to the other prisoners on their block. After a minute, an hour, a day, who knew, Quinn cleared her throat again and closed her eyes.
"You could leave," she said quietly, shifting so that her body was being propped up by the neighboring wall. "Sirius Black did it. Why do you stay here?"
Rachel stared at her, her eyes expressionless.
"I don't have anywhere else to go," she told her and shrugged her shroulders. "There's no one waiting for me out there."
Quinn scoffed. "And there's someone for you here?"
When Rachel didn't answer, Quinn opened her eyes and looked over at her. The brunette's eyes were trained on her arm and Quinn dropped her eyes to the perfectly untainted left forearm that lied next to her. Reflexively, she brought her own arm up to hide the mark against her chest, breaking Rachel out of her trance. Brown eyes searched her face, but Quinn refused to meet them.
"You don't . . . celebrate like the rest of them."
Quinn shook her head as another bout of pain rolled through her and she fell sideways to the ground with a groan.
"What's there to cheer about?" she grumbled, curling into the fetal position on the cold stone floor.
The conversation ended after that as Quinn finally gathered the energy to change. She was just about to drop off to a fitful sleep when she felt something burrow under her arm and lick the concealed mark. The pain nearly disappeared and was gone for a few glorious seconds before it came back. She opened her eyes weakly to see Rachel, her small cat body using Quinn's arm as a sort of blanket, cuddling into her.
For the first time in years, she slept an easy dreamless night.
When she woke up this time, she wasn't alone. Back in their human forms, Quinn and Rachel laid facing each other, their legs a tangled mess. Quinn's arm was draped around Rachel's waist and the brunette, still asleep, had her shirt clutched tightly in her fist. Quinn lifted her hand up and, as softly as her calloused hand could, caressed the brunette's cheek.
"Rachel," she whispered.
Rachel shifted and reached up to grab Quinn's hand as her eyes popped open. After a moment of confusion, the brown eyes bored into her with something akin to wonder. Her own hand lifted up to caress Quinn's cheek and she opened her mouth to speak before a sickening wave of despair washed over them. They both let out soft groans, immediately curling into each other, before Rachel's eyes widened in panic.
"Shit," she cursed before disentangling herself from Quinn, quickly changing into a cat and rushing out of the cell.
Quinn watched her leave with a look of devastation and she crawled to the steel bars in time to see Rachel slip into her own cell just as the Dementors turned down their block. She leaned her forehead against the bars as the tears leaked out of her eyes and the pain returned to her arm with a bloody vengeance.
"Come back," she whimpered out before she collapsed to the floor as her body shook from the pain.
The day of the mass breakout:
Quinn woke up in the middle of the night from the combination of the burning pain in her arm and the massive cheers ringing along her block. There was a clanging sound coming from the door of the cell before it cracked open. She sat up and got shakily to her feet, using the wall as a support to keep her body upright. It could be a trap. Some sort of malfunction. But when a couple of prisoners walked by her cell with smiles on their faces, she knew that it wasn't a mistake. The Dark Lord was calling his followers. With shaky steps, she stepped forward and slowly pushed her door open. A few prisoners walked by her as she leaned weakly against her cell and one of them reached out and grabbed her arm, lifting up her sleeve. At the sight of the Dark Mark, he nodded his head in approval and walked past her with a friendly pat on her shoulder. She watched them walk out of the door, the Dementors that guarded it not even giving them a second glance. When the block emptied out, she walked a few cells over, ignoring the pleas coming from the other prisoners.
She stopped in front of Rachel's cell. The brunette was huddled in the corner and when she looked over at her, Quinn frowned at the tears that were trailing down her face. Quinn stepped forward, gripping the steel bars tightly in her hands.
"Come with me," she whispered, her eyes pleading. "Please, come with me."
Rachel reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks, sniffling as her eyes searched the hazel ones staring back at her. With a deep breath, she began to crawl towards Quinn, morphing so she could slip though the bars. Quinn bent down and scooped Rachel up in her arms, feeling the bones beneath her skin. She walked over toward the door that the other prisoners went through and walked out, breathing a sigh of relief when the Dementors made no move to stop them.
The rest of the Death Eaters were waiting on the shore with a few boats bobbing in the water for them. She kept her sleeve rolled up as she climbed into the only open space on the last boat, keeping Rachel close to her chest as she shivered in the freezing weather. The boat pushed off shore and she could feel the influence of the Dementors finally begin to leave her after so many years. She almost laughed; instead, she hugged Rachel to her body, feeling her purr against her.
"Hey," the man sitting next to Quinn nudged her and she looked at him. "You're Fabray's kid, ain't ya?"
Quinn swallowed before giving his a strained nod. He smirked at her and chuckled. He leaned forward to whisper to her, his rancid breath making her wince.
"No one liked him anyway."
Quinn turned her eyes to the expanse of the sea and just nodded again, petting Rachel on the head as the man turned back to the happy conversation with the other passengers.
When they arrived on shore, a couple of robed Death Eaters were waiting for them. The passengers of the other two boats that got there before them were already apparating away with the wands that the Death Eaters provided them with. She turned to the man that had talked to her earlier.
"Where'd they get those wands?"
The man snickered and shrugged. "Probably off of some dead Mudbloods. Come on, before all the good ones are taken."
Quinn nodded and let them run ahead of her. She took a few steps back and when she was at the edge of the woods, she turned around and hurried away. She stumbled in the darkness that surrounded her, tripping over the uneven ground. The blistering cold felt magnificent against the burn in her arm. It felt wonderfully weird to be away from Azkaban, to be away from the Dementors.
To be free.
She followed her ears to the rushing water in the distance and eventually she came across a small creek. She set Rachel gently down on the ground and dropped to her knees in front of the running water. She cupped her hands and held it under the freezing, clear liquid, bringing it up to her lips and drinking it down, letting it sooth her incredibly dry throat. Merlin, it was fantastic. She hasn't tasted anything better than this in years.
She looked over when Rachel kneeled down next to her and mirrored her actions, taking a drink with a soft moan. Quinn couldn't take her eyes off of her, the water seeping between her fingers unnoticed. Rachel was . . . beautiful. Even when her face was dirty and her clothes were torn, she glowed in the moonlight like a Goddess.
Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.
Rachel opened her eyes and they immediately sought out Quinn's. She dropped her cupped hands as she observed the angelic blonde that saved her from that dreadful prison of insanity. Their hearts that were void of any happiness for ages were now thumping wildly in their chests. Quinn's lips lifted up into a smile that strained her cheeks. She wondered if she looked like a fool; it had been so long since she had smiled she felt like she'd forgotten how to do it.
But when Rachel smiled brightly back at her and actually giggled, she couldn't find it in herself to care. The giggles turned to chuckles before they were both lying on the ground laughing harder than they had in years.
When the laughter died down they found themselves lying together staring at the stars, Rachel's head on Quinn's shoulder, their arms wrapped around each other to provide some warmth and their legs tangled. Rachel gripped Quinn's hip.
"Where do we go now?"
Quinn sighed and closed her eyes, wincing softly at the throbbing pain in her arm as she hugged Rachel closer.
"Somewhere far away from here."
When she felt Rachel shiver against her, she untangled their legs and let her body change, the fur keeping her warm in the winter weather. She looked at Rachel who smiled at her and ran her fingers through the soft, short hair on her head, scratching behind her ears. She giggled at the rumbling purr coming from her lion companion before changing herself and burrowing under Quinn's large, muscular arms. She gave a small lick to the inside of Quinn's left forearm where she knew the mark was burning before closing her eyes and falling asleep almost immediately.
Quinn looked down at the slumbering cat and leaned their incredibly different sized heads together before allowing herself to drift off to sleep.
A/N: I love the Lion!Quinn and Kitty!Rachel idea. Having them be animagus' just made the most sense to me. Because Harry Potter is logical fucking fact. Obviously.