Just something that popped into my head, I had to write it down. After you're done with this, you may want to copy this URL and paste it into its box- this is hilarious. Be sure to read it thoroughly, slowly and carefully. Prepare to laugh. For those who don't like Harry Potter's character. I'd write the URL here but fanfic doesn't seem to like copy and paste, so just review and ask and I shall give.
From within the mind of Fenrir Greyback.
PLEASE REVIEW!!!
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Small wizard children with their plump little limbs and clean, shiny hair and cherubic, smiling faces...
These were the things Fenrir hated.
Hopw dare those children be happy and smiling when he and his kind were ignored, humiliated, despised and feared?
He had received his bite as a small child from someone who was now dead by his own jaws. Not many people knew that a werewolf bitten by another, particularly a fledgling, would die, and die his predecessor did. He remembered his bite like it had only been the day before, and he didn't often dwell on it.
He was a small boy of nine when he had been bitten, a relatively content child with black hair and blue eyes. He was laying in bed, his little sister in the next room, when he heard it.
The wolf.
He had climbed out of bed dressed only in a dark blue nightshirt. He had gone into the next room to wake his sister.
"C'mon, it's here again. Helen, wake up!" he had urged her. She sat up, her dark blonde hair plastered to her pale, sweet face with sleep and sweat from whatever dream she had been having.
He had taken his younger sister's hand, she only six years old, and had led her outside with him. He only took her because of the simple fact that he didn't want to find the wolf alone. They were a witch and wizard, but they had had no experience with werewolves, and that proved both their undoing.
He had been bitten and had survived. His sweet, innocent younger sister had not. For that, he had never forgiven himself. Judging by the fact that his parents cut him out of the will, they hadn't forgiven him either.
Now a grown man of 43, Fenrir had degraded into a child hunting monstrosity, and he knew it. Had he not been bitten, had his sister been alive, had his parents still loved him, he thought to himself, he would make a good father figure, but not now. NOW his mission in life was to bite them and teach them how life could really be. Free from the driveling existence of happy children and doting parents. Filled with the promise of riches unimagined in the minds of hopeless, helpless, poor children. And their blood was sweeter. He couldn't help it. He was imprisoned within the mind of his inner wolf, it seemed. His obsessions and opinions and hatred of the life he had lost drove him to it.
And the death of his sister. His fault.
Now, back in the present, he sniffed the air as a man with tanbgled beard and scruffy cheeks. He was upwind, so his body odor and the smell of his dirty, blood-stained robes wouldn't go to the one he hunted. He had been forced into this life. They would pay.
By the smell of it, this was no child. He could tell it was female. He could also smell faint traces of blood on the ground from where she had sat. Foolish of her and her friend to go hiking at this late hour.
He had been forced into this way of life, already weak minded with guilt and wracked with hate for what he had become and who had bitten him, Fenrir Romano, better known as Greyback, moved in for the kill.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Very short oneshot, please review!!!