Chapter 1: Into the Woods

The pack moved through the woods as though it were one creature. A giant beast with five heads moving onward, never ceasing, in its pursuit of new prey. Behind them they left nothing but trampled bushes and cracked limbs. They moved over both plants and animals, stomping out the life of any creature they met and consuming it.

At last the pack stopped, and the leader sniffed at the sky. The other four knew, somehow remembered, that he was in charge, that he was the one that brought them the very best of the fresh meat and the best distracting playthings, and that whenever he stopped them, they would be rewarded.

The leader turned and, without a warning, took off running to the right. He ran through a trail where the woods opened up upon a small lake. They could see beside the lake, a young doe was drinking. All the others circled around the leader, but they knew they could not move on the prey until he did.. Then, with one giant leap, he launched himself across the clearing and caught hold of the doe's neck with his teeth. The other four joined in quickly and within a minute the deer had ceased to stuggle. Mere minutes later the pack had stripped away almost all of the flesh from the animal and started back into the forest. The five figures, covered in blood, dirt, hair, and viscera, hardly looked human at all.

The leader was named Fenrir Greyback, a large and imposing man with matted hair and full beard beneath the blood. He looked back at the lake and thought, "Only four more days until the full moon. Then the fun really starts. Just wait." He turned his crusted mouth into a smile and started laughing into the night. None of the other werewolves could tell if the sound their leader made was a laugh, or a howl, but they joined in. For a long time the cackling howls of the five blood soaked creatures filled the night and then the pack moved on.

Later that night a skinny and shivering man entered the clearing. He removed a wand from the pocket of his shabby cloak and pointed it toward the blood on the ground. He examined everything and knew he was still on the right trail. He too was covered in mud and was quite filthy, but he refused to give into the animal nature just yet. As he came upon the doe's carcass he looked at it sadly, then he slowly stripped off the remaining meat and lit a small fire to cook. He did not cook the meat for long as he still preferred it rare. As the light of the fire reflected off the lake, he saw his own face for the first time in what seemed like months and he was appalled by just how haggard he had become. Through the filth and scars his eyes showed only pain. Remus Lupin was a broken man.

"This is my life now," he muttered into the night. He had spent the past month chasing the pack of ragged beasts he hated so much, living off their scraps, and fearing that every day he might come closer to becoming one of them.

"Has it only been six months since they died." he thought, or perhaps he said aloud, or maybe even screamed, he was never sure anymore. Especially when his mind led him down that path, the path to Lily, to James, to Sirius...

His eyes welled up with tears as he tore into his dinner with a savage intensity that scared him even more.

The details of the past six months were hard for Lupin to think about in the best of times, but it was impossible for him to keep them from repeating themselves over and over in his mind. His entire world had been shattered in those last nights of the Great War. The thoughts were always the same, "Lily and James, killed. Harry, taken away." And, worst of all, "Sirius, Sirius how could you."

In those first few days after it happened he had tried to find Sirius, he wanted to be the one to bring him to justice, to make him pay, to make him see… But the obsession was too much and Dumbledore, afraid of the anger, afraid of the darkness, which he saw in Lupin asked him to stay back. "Do not take the pain of betrayal and further the brutality," Dumbledore had said.

But Lupin refused and went out anyway. He wasn't able to find the vengeance he sought though because just before Lupin could find Sirius, Peter found him first. And Sirius had killed Peter too, along with a dozen Muggles. Remus watched as Sirius was carted away to Azkaban and had tried to believe that justice was served. but it wasn't enough, the pain of their deaths was too much. As the anger flowed through him, he became less cautious, twice had nearly forgotten to take his Wolfsbane potion before the full moon. As each day passed he became more and more aware of how unsafe it would be for everyone if he stayed out in the open. The pain, the grief, and the need for vengeance meant he would have to run.

So Lupin went to the one man he felt could understand what he was feeling, the one man he actually felt he could still trust but who wouldn't go to Dumbledore, or question his motives, or his methods, Alastor Moody. Moody only cared about one thing, catching dark wizards and bring them to justice, in any way necessary.

"Are ya planning to take all of 'em werewolves down?" he growled, magic eye spinning madly.
"Every last one."
"Good on ya then. I'll tell ya all I know."

And so Lupin learned where Fenrir was last know to be, how his pack hunted, and the basics of how to follow werewolves without detection. Then he set out to find them and bring them down. Lupin assumed this would be his last act, the end of the war and of his personal hell. He hoped he would be able to kill the monster who turned him into a beast, and hopefully die as well.

For two months Lupin had chased down bad leads, old trails, and dead ends. But in the past week he finally caught up with them. He continued to follow them from afar as they hunted like animals, though it was not yet the full moon and none of them had transformed. Now that he had found them, he had to figure out how to fight them. Certainly if he wanted to live this would be impossible, but that was irrelevant. He only cared that he won. As he packed up his meager camp and extinguished the fire he thought, "There has to be a way," and he stepped into the woods.

Nearly half a mile away, Fenrir Greyback sniffed the air, and smiled.