Written for the Pairing the Character - Drabble Competition on the HPFC forum. Prompt: Remus Lupin. Also written for the Halloween/October Drabble Challenge. Prompt: fog.
Word count: 487
Remus wonders, when he sets out that morning from his campsite just outside the territory of Fenrir Greyback, if the fog clinging to the ground and placing a grey filter over the world is a sign. It probably is, he thinks. A sign that nothing good will come of this.
He's been pessimistic from the start about this – Albus seems to think there's something he can offer Fenrir, some way he can talk him around, that will result in the bestial man changing allegiances. It doesn't matter what Remus says or how he argues because Albus won't change his mind. He just says he'll send Podmore if Remus doesn't want to do it in the placating tone of his, his blue eyes twinkling. Remus can't allow that; they'd tear Podmore to bits and he happens to like Sturgis just a bit (in a friendly sort of way). So that's why he's here, at the base of Cader Idris, setting out to meet the man who's plagued his nightmares for fifteen years.
To say he's not looking forward to this would be an understatement. Frankly, that's an understatement.
He's only an hour into his hike when he's accosted by a group of ragged looking teenagers; they watch him with wary eyes, dirt on their cheeks, their clothes in tatters. Remus swallows. The fear that shoots through him isn't because of the way they bare sharp teeth at him – it's because he's staring into a mirror. These boys would've been him if things had swerved just slightly off course. He'd be just as feral and inhuman as these boys. That's more terrifying than any threat.
"Oo're ya?" the oldest of the boys asks in a thick cockney accent, looking Remus over with shrewd eyes.
Remus opens his mouth to answer but it's said for him, in the baritone voice that sends shivers down his spine, raises the hair on the back of his neck, and makes his heart thump with dread. The answers comes from the big bad wolf himself: Fenrir Greyback.
"One of us, lads."
They look to their leader with curious, questioning eyes; Remus can practically feel their skepticism in the air but Greyback ignores them. The man stretches a hand towards Remus and beckons him forward. Remus wonders, as he steps towards the hand, if he's walking to his doom.
As soon as Remus is in reach, Greyback grabs and him pulls them together; their bodies are pressed together, the man's nose buried in the crook of Remus' neck. Greyback is so much larger than him – could probably snap him in half. The man inhales deeply before pulling away, looking at down Remus with a hungry grin.
"You smell like one of them. We'll have to fix that." As he speaks, realization strikes Remus; the hunger in his gaze isn't for food – it's for flesh. It's lust.
Remus was right.
Nothing good will come from this.