Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K.Rowling. Only the plot and original characters are mine.
Warnings: Gen. Angst. HBP Spoilers
Summary: A howl tears through the crisp night air. The boy cowers in terror. The hunt is on.
A/N: Part One reposted, with the formatting cleared so that it is easier to read. The actual content of the story remains the same!
The Bite of the Werewolf – Part One
John Lupin drew his cowl tighter around his head, repressing a shiver of fear at his surroundings. The path underfoot was overgrown, barely discernable by the naked eye – the human eye at any rate. Weeds crawled across, entwining with the steams of long dead flowers and uprooted trees. Stumbling the wizard glanced down, bile rising in his throat at the sight that met his eyes.
A fly covered carcass lay at his feet. Now he understood from where the annoying buzzing had been coming. The disturbed swarm rose into the air and he dashed up the tangled path, eager to be done with his mission.
The sun hovered in the western horizon reminding him of how little time he had. As he entered the canopy of trees the light turned meagre, mocking his unease at the dancing shadows. At last the faint yellow light singled out the ancient cottage with its twisted ivy walls, rotting door and stained windows. No one had lived here for centuries.
Carefully darting towards the entrance John sneaked a peek to his left and right. Nothing stirred. The wood was silent. Warily he toed the door open, sliding in to be confronted with complete darkness. A shuffling sound came from the back of the room, followed by a scraping noise which cautioned John to shield his face so that he wouldn't be blinded.
A match flared, illuminating the features of a handsome man, whose green eyes fixed an unwavering stare on his person. Evil glinted in the animal orbs.
Fenrir Greyback, the most savage werewolf alive, killing indiscriminately, savouring children the most, cultivating his child victims to be his army of terror, stood directly opposite him with a hungry grin playing over his features. Refusing to be cowed the Ministry wizard calmly lowered his leather case onto the table standing by his right elbow, carefully observing the actions of the werewolf opposite.
A wick burst into flame, the lantern casting enough light to see by. The tall, slim man sprawled in a rickety chair grinning at the representative. Nobody spoke for long moments. At last Fenrir broke the tense silence.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
His manner visibly showed that this meeting was anything but pleasurable. John stiffened slightly but gave no other outward sign of disgust or trepidation.
"The Ministry is willing to make a deal with the werewolves as long as you stop these ruthless killings and kidnapping of children."
A rumbling laugh echoed through the small room.
"Is this a joke?" snarled the man. "Why should I stop? Children are oh so tasty, even more so when biting them leaves the 'taint' in their blood as a punishment to their parents. Tell me oh! so wise wizard, why should we werewolves stop our fight for justice?"
A horrified gasp met such a declaration.
"You call these brutal attacks justice? How can such evil acts be anything near justice?"
Irritated at the condemnation the man leaned forward.
"Careful," he rasped, warning evident in his tone, "I do not like your distaste towards my person, nor the dismissive manner with which you treat the oppression of us werewolves. Why shouldn't we fight for freedom and fair treatment by society?"
"Freedom yes! Fair treatment certainly! But the manner…Discontinue your actions Fenrir Greyback otherwise the Ministry will deal with you harshly."
Long, golden hair was flung back, exposing a strong neck, muscles rippling as laughter spilt from the long column.
"Should I be afraid Mr. Ministry Official? Should I be trembling in my boots?" The cruel laughter stopped abruptly. The wintry gaze focused on him intently.
"What exactly is your deal?"
"Werewolves will be granted a few more rights-"
Fenrir interrupted.
"A few more rights? Is that all you can do? Let me remind you John Lupin – yes I know your name – that you need us more than we werewolves need you, so either the Ministry does as I say or there shall be no concession in these 'evil' acts of mine."
The moment Fenrir had finished his ultimatum John sprang to his feet, fury overcoming his better sense. Harsh words leapt from bitter lips, words he would regret to his dying day.
"No, Fenrir, there shall be no such agreement. We don't deal with scum like you, not on your dubious terms."
Wrath blazed in the luminescent orbs, and the rangy form slowly uncoiled from the seat, danger writ in every hard line. Into this tableau shone the dying rays of the sun, which shattered the gloom of the cottage.
A shaft of light fell on the advancing werewolf highlighting his eyes, which were changing. Their forest green was almost entirely consumed by the golden eyes of the werewolf. The long, flowing hair was more like a mane than it had been only minutes before. Hands were held stiffly, awkward in their movement.
John stumbled backwards, face drained of colour as he realised that the moon would be up in mere minutes.
Then into this rapid series of events something else became evident. It was if a noise, which previously had been unconsciously heard, had ceased. He could hear absolutely nothing apart from the pounding of his heart and the gentle growling of the beast.
An unnatural hush had fallen on the forest.
The wildlife knew what was about to descend.
Fenrir Greyback slowly approached the dismayed form of John Lupin.
"You will come to regret your words Lupin."
Lips pulled back to reveal lengthening canines, already dripping saliva.
"Now go before I ensure that you live up to your namesake John Wolf."
Seeing the contortions on the handsome face, features melting into new contours John Lupin fled for his life, heart in his mouth, as he comprehended the great danger he had placed his family in.
0-0-0-0
Wakeful, John Lupin titled his head to the side to view the beautiful rolling countryside framed by the bedroom window. For the first time in three months he felt at peace, during which the long dark days and weeks had been filled with the terror of anticipation; the fearful wait.
However, nothing had happened. Each full moon had passed uneventfully, the silver rays alighting on nothing more dangerous or unnerving than a fox. Fenrir Greyback had melted into the shadows to which his soulless being belonged. Therefore, John Lupin was quite content to consider their peril almost over if not entirely vanished.
To this end he had accepted a business invitation abroad, which would entail abandoning his wife and son alone for three days and nights. One of these nights overlapped the rising of the full moon.
John frowned as a tingle of unease made itself known, but he shook it off as an anxiousness concerning his upcoming meetings. Turning back to face his wife he smiled lovingly at the mass of blond curls spread as wings across the pillow. She was stunning and more than capable of looking after herself and their son.
Not from werewolves, whispered the nagging voice inside his head. Muggles don't understand how to deal with the monsters of our world.
Irritated and upset by the voice Lupin swung out of bed, preparing for the day.
On his way out of the bedroom he slowed, pausing on the threshold, indecision warring within him. You'll never forgive yourself if you allow any harm to come to them.
Hovering uncertainly for another minute John made his decision. Crossing the carpet to the bed he gently shook his wife's sleeping form.
"Dear," he called softly. "Mary, wake up. Mary."
"Hmmpft?" came the inarticulate response.
"Mary dear, please pay attention, this is important."
Bleary, sleep dusted eyes focused on his creased features.
"Darling, what on earth is the matter?"
"You remember what I told you about that werewolf?"
"The savage one who you upset?"
John winced. "The very same. Listen dear, listen closely because it could mean the difference between life and death."
Mary sat up, alert now at the urgent, serious words.
"I know I said that the danger has more than likely passed, but I still wish you to be careful. On the night of the full moon – my last day abroad – and the two nights either side – please do not go outside.
Do not permit Remus to wander far, ensure that he is home before the moon rises: before nightfall on the full moon, and tomorrow at four, even though it will be still daylight, the moon will be up before night closes in on the world. Do you promise me?"
Laying her right hand on his left she spoke firmly, "I promise."
Soothed by his wife's vow John Lupin left, the cheerful morning sunlight chasing away his troubles.
0-0-0-0
"Hurry up Remus!" shouted Mary Lupin at the foot of the staircase. "Jonathon will leave without you!"
Remus Lupin – only child of the Lupins – hastened his morning ritual, eager to see Jonathon again. He was a small boy of ten years of age, soft brown hair framing a delicate face set with hazel pools – an exotic blend of golds and browns.
Intelligence shone unwaveringly in the dancing orbs full of untarnished life. Happiness poured from every determined pore, ready for whatever life threw at him. He adored studying and learning new things, quiet only when he had a nose stuck into a book.
Great courage dwelt in his little heart, courage that he would need soon. All too soon into this innocent's child's short existence would fall a shadow – a shadow containing much sorrow and suffering.
Solitude and silence, introspection and wariness would become Remus Lupin's bywords. Whether his soul would survive this agony with any semblance of the ability to love would depend on his strength.
Yet for the moment, the long blissful moment, he was still innocent and impatient to go. Dashing down the stairs unheedful of his mother's exasperated cry he only came to a skidding halt when he drew level with the kitchen, darting to the table to quickly eat his breakfast.
Sitting in his favourite spot, which overlooked the colourful garden, Remus split his attention between his mother and admiring at the flower he loved most in the world.
"Jonathon will drop you off at school and pick you up from school understand dear? Do not leave without him. Are you listening son?"
Gazing serenely into his mother's questioning blue eyes Remus smiled.
"Of course mummy. I know daddy wants us home before it gets dark. I'll make sure not to go anywhere without Uncle Johnny."
A door opening and shutting signalled Jonathon's arrival even before his deep voice rang out.
"Hiya boyo! Still eating I see. Sis," a wet kiss was deposited, "nice to see you looking so well. Come on Remus! Lets vanish."
Giggling at his uncle's antics Remus jumped off the chair, dropping his bowl and plate into the sink, and hoisting his rucksack onto his shoulders on his way to the door. As Remus waited for his uncle to catch up, Jonathon met the worried eyes of his sister, petting his coat grimly.
Nestled under the folds of his long coat was an object of sleek black beauty. Silver lay hidden in its depths, shaped into a specific design symbolising defence. Muggles may not know how to arm themselves against the fiends of the magical world, but they had their myths and legends, enabling them to put forth a good effort.
In the garden Remus gazed at the splendour of his favourite flower, the lovely varying shades of violet swaying in the slight breeze – the Lupin, the flower of his namesake, from the Latin lupinus meaning wolf. Why their pretty colours should today send a shiver of forbidding premonition down his spine ten year old Remus had no idea.
A heavy hand landing on his shoulder startled Remus out of his disturbing reverie, the ghosts fading into the air.
The walk was a pleasant one, the crisp morning air sending an invigorating shiver throughout the body. At one point they strolled down a country lane hemmed on either side by tall bushes, the branches long entwined into two parallel lines of hedge.
Beyond the dark greenery towered tall trees, reaching out to their sundered brethren across the loose stone road. The light here was dimmed, almost extinguished. Not many lingered on this stretch of country lane; Remus and Jonathon only took it due to no other choice, unless they wished to hazard the surrounding hills, wandering miles from their destination.
0-0-0-0
From behind the lush green foliage lurked a terrible creature, a creature born out of twisted magic, a stain on nature itself. This being defied nature's order and revelled in it. When the beast awoke nature howled in protest at the abomination of what is, instead of what there should have been.
Yet it is up to the choice of the individual whether this beast was given sway when it came forth, answering the beckoning of the white moon. This being had made his choice long ago. He allowed the beast reign even when in human form.
Forest green stared unblinkingly at the two hurrying figures, a sneer twisting his mouth. A Muggle and a child? Is that all you send out to fight me? How foolish. Before the moon has fully risen he shall be mine.
The wolf is patient. The wolf is clever. The wolf is cunning. All these things are the werewolf with the very human lust for revenge.
TBC…