The Light of the Moon
Written for my Remus
Part One:
The moon was bright.
The four creatures advanced on him.
It was a peculiar moon. Shadowed.
He took a step back, fear gathering in the pit of his stomach.
Not quite a cloud. Thinner than that. A veil.
He could feel the tree pressing against his back as he straightened his shoulders and looked the first in the eye.
Just enough to make it different.
There was nowhere to run. Not this time. He would not blink.
"Well, well. What have we here, my pretty? The Dark Lord's favourite."
There was a gut instinct in the pit of its stomach. Something knotted. It lingered in between the trees, tasting the air, and tasting fear. It stung its senses. It rose up on its hind legs, sniffing the air. So close, yet so far too - in the trees - yes, somewhere between the trunks - danger was lurking - and it had to find it.
There was a hand at his throat. He could feel his own heart beat thudding against those tight fingers. His breathing caught, just a little. So far, the creature had been in the shadows. It had not seen the moonlight.
But it was coming.
He swallowed and felt his muscles move against that hand. "Looks like you have been thrown to the wolves, Master Snape."
He did not answer.
"Beg for your life. Beg for me to not bite you."
He gritted his teeth and refused.
It charged through the forest, following the scent. A familiar scent. One it knew and it recognised. Like one of its own, but different too. It was faster on four paws, clawing the grass and the dirt, following only the particles in the air. Sweat and fear and musk. Like a cologne. Like a potions ingredient.
The hand let go.
"Run, Snape. Run. Let us see you run."
"Why?"
"Because if you make it back to the Forbidden Forest, we'll let you go. But if you do not, you are ours for the taking. So. Run."
He followed the command because he had no choice, and behind him he heard the laughter, mocking and cruel - "We'll count to ten, Snape. Let's see how fast you can run."
It stopped, abruptly. The scent had changed. Injected with adrenaline. He was running. Quickly. It changed direction and followed.
He tripped. His foot caught in an exposed root and he sprawled to the ground, his ankle cracking with a stab of pain. He gasped and pulled his knee to his chest, tears springing to his eyes. He inhaled and exhaled sharply, pushing himself to his feet and crying out when his leg could no longer support the weight and he staggered. He looked around the trees, starting to panic - he was not meant to die tonight - he did not want to die tonight - no - he backed up into the foliage and the leaves, slumping against a fallen trunk as his ankle screamed in agony and denied him any further.
He heard the creatures before he saw them. Then he was surrounded.
Fenrir Greyback, now transformed, dragged him from his hiding place and threw him onto the floor, a cruel glint in his eye as he considered his prisoner, where to bite first, whether to kill him or to play with him.
There was a cry like a wounded animal. Like a wounded human. It knew the human was important. That the human meant something to it. A keeper, a protector, perhaps a member of its pack - it needed to be there - it saw the other wolves threatening the cowering being, smelt the pure terror and the blood. It hissed and howled, attracting attention - and leapt in to protect its fallen counterpart.
Severus raised his head. Fenrir had leapt back slightly, when another werewolf had threatened him. It could only be - "Remus - no -"
Remus was, and always had been, a sickly werewolf - never as powerful as those who wanted the ability - and Fenrir was much stronger than him. But still, Remus, fully transformed, defended Severus as the other tried to back away.
Fenrir lashed out. Remus clawed back. Severus saw the ground splattered with blood - but from who - he could not tell.
Fenrir was larger. He pounced on Remus, knocking the other to the ground. Severus sat up, as Remus the wolf howled in pain and Fenrir drew back, mouth bloodied. Severus stared at the fallen body of his companion and lover, before raising his gaze back to Fenrir. "What…what have you done?"
It lay still, whimpering. Its breathing was harsh. It watched the stronger wolf tower over its prey. Its human, cowering, in the dirt. There was nothing it could do - it needed to stop this - something, somewhere, a natural instinct - so different to its normal nature - to protect -
Severus grasped his wand and pointed it at Greyback. "Leave me be."
The werewolf seemed to smirk. It drove its claws into his chest, pushing him back to the ground, taunting him. He fired a curse the best he could, but his hand shook and it missed.
In that moment, Fenrir attacked. His teeth ripped into Severus' chest and ribcage, shattering the bones and piercing vital organs. He cried out, practically screamed in pain, before that blackness threatened him. The last thing he saw - or even remembered - was Fenrir pulling back, Severus' blood filling his mouth, before he lost that consciousness completely.
