A/N:

Ok, a new story and a dark story with some turns and twists in it. This story is very short compared to most of my other stories, but it is a lovely little story that I am very proud of. My plot bunny took this idea and ran with it so fast that I completed this story in an hour and a half.

So I will be posting the whole story in one go, I was going to post it in segments, but I think it would be better if it was posted in one go instead of making you guys wait. Yes, that is how happy I am with how this story turned out.

I hope you like it, please read and review.

Jabberwocky.

The forest was quiet, no birds sung in the trees, the leaves hung dead as the wind deserted them, even the animals on the forest ground knew not to mutter a sound. For a sound in this forest would end up in their death, and a vile and vicious death it would be as well.

Two leaves twitched, as a small figure moved along the solid oak branch, her bare feet helping her grip the rough bark. Silently and slowly, step by careful step she moved along the branch, until she could see the small camp site that she had been hunting down for more then a week. She had stripped her jacket off and was down to jeans and a ripped singlet with her wand sticking in the waist of her jeans. She had rubbed herself down with leaves so her scent was masked, for hunting these creatures was not just about skill, but about being thorough.

The mudbloods and squibs had been hunted down and handed over to the authorities (the ones they could catch, that was), and pickings for the Snatchers were slim and hard to come by. But by luck, and perhaps chance, she had found the most profitable job for a Snatcher.

Hunting werewolves.

The renegades, the fearful and the stupid had run as soon as Fenrir joined with The Dark Lord. But there was one werewolf that was prized beyond the rest, the bounty on his head was large enough that she knew she could settle down once she had brought him in. The idiot of a werewolf had always hated his true nature, according to the file that was thrown on her desk more then a month ago. Banding with the 'good side' at the start of the first war, his position had not changed, though he had been known to join certain remote werewolf groups to get information back to The Order.

He had turned in to Dumbledore's lap dog.

Her toes curled up as a caterpillar crawled over them, momentarily drawing her attention. Such a small and so fully muggle creature, a caterpillar was. It's whole life revolved around eating, changing in to something that people pinned to their walls, did it know that it would soon become nothing more then a moth with technicolour? She crouched down, letting go of the branch above her and holding on to the branch she stood on, her hands either side of her feet as she watched the bug continue it's tickling path across her toes. "Everything dies..." She whispered, pressing her thumb down on to the caterpillar, pushing with enough pressure that the creatures back seemed to bend under her finger, before it finally squished the small things middle.

"No matter what they are..."

Her head snapped up as she heard the unmistakable sounds of people moving below her, quickly she stood up and wrapped her arms around the branch above her head. Ignoring the dead caterpillar's body that was still on her toes, she moved to the edge of the branch, hidden behind the oak leaves she watched as two young female werewolves walked towards the small stream that was hidden a few trees over by long grass, but whose trickling sound was unmistakable.

"He'll be back soon..." One of the females said, smiling softly to her companion. "He'll want his clothes fresh for when he returns."

"Of course, our Alpha would want nothing more." The older woman replied, not bothering to look at her companion, to busy on carrying a basket of what looked and smelled to be dirty laundry.

The women hadn't even reached the trees that hid the stream before two flashes of green light shot from the tree and ended their small conversation and meaningless tasks.

"Sweet dreams." The girl whispered, slipping her wand in to her pocket and going back to crouching in the tree, waiting until someone found the bodies. Then the hunt would be on again, and the more that she had to hunt them, the more the price would rise on the one they call Remus Lupin's head.