There's someone for evryone
Disclaimer - Harry Potter is owned by J.K Rosling
A/N - Written for QL round 3
Prompt - 90s Nostalgia - BEATER 2: Love Is All Around — Wet Wet Wet
Additional prompts - (emotion)fear, (word) barbaric
Word count - 1679
It was the night of the full moon. A large grey wolf made a low, disgusted noise as the other wolves of his pack cuddled and played with their mates. Fenrir hated spring and he'd make sure that his packmates knew it too.
He charged at a pair of wolves who were chasing each other around an oak tree. He fiercely growled at them, scaring them both. The male whimpered and showed his neck in submission while the female ran in the other direction. Fenrir could easily have caught her, but it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, he went off in the other direction.
As Fenrir was nearing the lake, his ears picked up a soft melody. Whoever it was, Fenrir licked his lips, anticipating potential prey. He ducked close to the ground and stalked forward, his eyes scanning his surroundings for any sign of the creature making the noise.
Someone was playing in the water. They had silver hair, which was shining in the moonlight.
Fenrir charged at his prey, who turned to his direction. It was a girl. She had pale — almost white — skin and huge blue eyes that quickly widened with fright. On seeing Fenrir, she started to run.
Fenrir followed suit, eager for the chase. When he was about to reach her, she turned around and made a loud, ear-piercing noise that hit Fenrir's sensitive wolf ears hard. He fell down, unable to withstand the shrill scream.
Fenrir frowned as he woke up, his eyelids feeling heavy as he blinked blearily. The sunlight filtering through the trees made him think it was the next morning, but he couldn't be sure. He was back in his weak human form; his head was pounding in a way it never had before. Unlike the others in his pack, he never felt weak after the full moon. He was made to be a wolf.
Faint flashes of the night before came to his mind. That thing — that female near the lake, her huge blue eyes, the water dripping from her silver hair, that horrible scream. He shuddered not with fear, but with something else.
"Uh, Alpha." Someone's voice brought him out of his thoughts. He glared at the offender, only to find his beta, Jack, there.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your bitch?" Fenrir asked slyly, immediately going on the offensive. He didn't like that the other wolf had found him in such a vulnerable state and wanted to return things to normal.
The other werewolf growled, a low sound deep in his chest. "Keep René out of it, Alpha," he snapped.
Fenrir grabbed Jack by his neck, his eyes boring into the other man as he pulled his lips back to bare his teeth at him.
"If you ever raise your voice at me again, your mate will pay," Fenrir said, enjoying the fear that spiked in the other man in response.
Jack just choked and tried to tilt his neck in submission, his defiance gone in an instant. Fenrir let him go, and he fell to the floor. As he should.
That night, Fenrir approached the lakeside again, hoping to see that creature. He didn't yet know what he wanted to do with her, just that some primal instinct had drawn him there. He sniffed the air. A sweet, flowery smell hit his sensitive nose, making his nostrils flare. He gave a predatory smirk and stalked in the direction of her scent.
There she was, still unaware of his presence. With the skill of a hunter, he came up behind her, ready to pounce. She turned around, her eyes widening with shock as she saw him coming at her. He wasn't surprised; he knew that he looked savage to humans — relished in it.
She tried to take a step back but stopped as she reached the edge of the lake. One more step, and she would have tumbled in. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath.
Before she could scream like before, Fenrir crushed their lips together. The girl pounded her fist against his broad chest but to no avail. When Fenrir pulled away, she slapped him hard.
Fenrir growled angrily, but the girl didn't cower. He couldn't smell any fear on her.
"'Ow dare you touch me, you monster!" she shouted in heavily accented English.
Fenrir smirked. This was his territory. "I do what I want. I'm Fenrir Greyback, alpha of the most feared werewolf pack in Britain. But I've never seen anything like you before. What are you?"
"I'm not a 'zing!" she retorted angrily.
Fenrir chuckled. The girl wouldn't escape without giving him answers.
"I've got all day," he said, baring his teeth.
Seeing that the huge werewolf wasn't going to budge, she spoke.
"I'm Colette. I'm a Veela," she said haughtily.
Fenrir stared at her hungrily, watching as her proud demeanor fell and she started to fidget.
"What are you staring at, you disgusting beast?" she shouted, losing her composure again.
Fenrir just growled.
"You're mine," he said, licking his lips again. She would be a good addition to his pack. After all, she had shown little fear in the face of his threatening growls, and her scream was a powerful weapon indeed. He was curious about what a Veela-werewolf hybrid would be like.
Colette huffed with a defiance Fenrir hadn't expected.
"In your dreams," she spat.
Fenrir just smirked. She'd come 'round in the end.
Over the next week, Fenrir observed his pack and how the males approached their mates. He knew that throwing Colette over his shoulder and taking her to his lair wasn't going to work, not from the way she had acted at their last meeting. He grimaced, thinking about the strength of her screams. If that continued, he'd eventually become deaf.
Meanwhile, Colette had retreated to her small cottage. She had come to England for some rest and relaxation, but never in her wildest nightmares had she expected to be chased by a horny werewolf. Being a full-blooded Veela, she was used to this kind of advance, but it was usually by humans. She could protect herself, but with a werewolf, she didn't want to take any risks.
A sudden noise outside startled her out of her thoughts. She listened more intently but couldn't hear anything, so she decided to check. Opening the door, she nearly stepped on a bouquet of wildflowers, messily tied with a vine. The stems were mangled from where the person tying them together had obviously become frustrated, the knot worse than a child's.
Still, something prompted Colette to pick up the flowers. Bringing it to her face to smell, she immediately sneezed. Suddenly disgusted, she threw the bouquet back into the forest, locking the door as she went back inside.
A few days later, Colette went for a quiet walk in the forest. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and there had been no disturbances since the bouquet incident. Hopefully, the wolf's pack had moved on, leaving her to enjoy the rest of her holiday in peace.
Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck prickled, telling her that she was no longer alone. She huffed, her good mood evaporating. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy to get rid of the werewolf.
Colette turned, ready to fend Fenrir off once again. But she blinked in surprise when she came face-to-face with a different werewolf. This one had dark hair and tattered clothes, and his eyes glittered as he watched her hungrily.
"Well, well. So this is the prized possession Greyback is hiding from everyone. Doesn't he know that the wolfpack always shares? Shame, really. You are a pretty one," he leered, reaching out towards her.
Before he could take another step, something flew from the nearby thicket to pounce on him. Colette stumbled back in surprise, tripping over a root in her haste to get away. When she looked up, she saw that it was Fenrir, pinning the other werewolf to the floor.
He lifted his head and gruffly shouted, "Go!"
He didn't have to tell her twice. Her heart pounding in her chest, Collette ran as fast she could, never once looking back.
Later that night, someone knocked at Colette's cottage. Fear held her in place. After her encounter with the other wolf, it was clear that Fenrir might not be the most dangerous thing in the forest after all.
"Open up. It's me, Fenrir."
Colette hesitated for half a second before her moral compass took over and she opened the door, letting the werewolf alpha in. He was a mess. His face was covered with bite marks and scratches, and she could see a dark patch on the ground where his blood had dripped to form a puddle. Colette covered her mouth in shock.
"Come in," she said hurriedly. "I'll find my medikit."
She started for the bathroom for bandages, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Don't bother; I'm tough shit," Fenrir joked, showing pointed teeth.
Colette rolled her eyes.
The next morning, Colette gave Ferir a freshly cooked steak. He sniffed the meat and made a disgusted noise.
"Why is it burnt?" he asked, obviously trying to remain polite.
Colette looked at him, confused and more than a little offended. Her father was a professional chef, and while she was nowhere near his level, she knew what she was doing with food. "Burnt? I cooked this steak perfectly!"
Fenrir made a face.
"Don't you have something raw?" he asked gruffly.
Colette frowned. "You barbaric oaf!" she shouted.
Fenrir picked up the steak and started to eat it savagely, much to Colette's disgust.
If he hoped to stick around, they were going to have to talk about a few things first — starting with his manners.