DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling.
title: A Monster's Philosophy
by: The Rose in Death's Garden
written for: giftfic for problematiquefave, for The HPFC Monthly Oneshot Exchange (October 2016)
prompts: dark, dice, Fenrir Greyback
Fenrir Greyback had always been something of a monster even long before he was ever bitten by the werewolf that changed him quite literally into a monster. As a child some of the hobbies that young Fenrir enjoyed were: squashing insects, breaking other children's toys just so that he could listen to them cry, and tearing the wings off of birds then watching them hop around helplessly until they bled to death. As he grew older, his behavior continued to escalate from things other people would call problems to behaviors that would be termed red flags to things that would have labeled him as a deviant and criminal.
Once he became a werewolf his behavior reached the point where it could not become any worse. Even when not in wolf form, he now had an insatiable hunger for living flesh. He was a cannibal whose favorite hobbies consisted of taking revenge on those who wronged him, turning as many other people into werewolves as possible, and devouring children. There was not a person alive who had met or otherwise knew of him who would classify him as anything other than the most monstrous of monsters.
Greyback's philosophy in life was a somewhat muddled metaphor. As he once drunkenly attempted to explain it to Scabior: "The hand you're dealt in life is a roll of the dice."
Scabior just gave him an uncomprehending look and slurred, "Wussat ev'n mean...?"
Greyback growled in annoyance at being interrupted. Even in his fully human form when it was far from being time for the full moon, his mannerism were more that of a wild beast than of a person had been raised in human civilization.
"The hand you're dealt in life," he started again, glaring at Scabior all the while as if daring him to try to interrupt him again, "is a roll of the dice."
Scabior kept quiet this time as he waited for the werewolf to actually explain what he meant. Privately the Snatcher though to him self that Greyback should decide whether life was a game of card or a game of dice and not mix them up into a single nonsensical metaphor.
"What I'm saying is you never know what life is gonna throw your way and you don't know what you're going to do about it before you get because you don't know what's coming, ya know? You make plans for what you're going to do if you get a certain thing but then the thing that that happens isn't that thing and the only thing you can do is react. And you can think you'd know how you'd react if a thing happens but until it actually does happen to you, you don't really know how you'd react to it because it's never happened to you before."
Scabior took another swig of Firewhiskey straight from the bottle as he pondered Greyback's meandering speech and circular logic. Maybe there was actually some wisdom in the werewolf's drunken ramblings. Then again, maybe not.