"We're going out."
I looked up at the sound of my father's voice. He was standing in the door way, dressed in brand new robes of deep green. Beside him, mother looked similar: dazzling, to say the least.
I almost asked if I would be joining the two of them on there night out, but then quieted.
"Your to stay here," he said, adjusting his sleeve cuffs, "Your mother and I will return later, when the ball is finished. Draco is staying over with his friends, so he won't be back tonight."
"Yes, father."
"Goodnight."
He shut my bedroom door with a click and I slumped onto the mound of pillows behind me, jaded. There was a place deep inside me where I wish my father could be more affectionate. He was always crisp, business-like, but I guess I couldn't expect any different from a Death Eater. I supposed they were all like that. Cold. Derelict of any warmth. I'd never mentioned this to my father, of course, but I always felt awfully chilled when one of them visited the manor. The cloaked figures seemed to leave an icy trail in their wake.
It was later that night, after I'd bathed and sat in my room, practicing some fresh spells, when I heard a loud knock on the mansion's front door.
It could have been mother and father, returning from the ball, but looking at the large clock on the wall, I knew it was much to early.
Draco must have come home early, I thought as I sauntered the down the mansion's main stairwell. After all, who else could be visiting this late in the evening?
The sky had turned a deep shade of blue when I'd saw Lucius and his wife leaving. Through the manor's large, draped windows, I had saw the pair step into the living room's grand fireplace and dissapear into emerald flames. They were dressed awfully fancy. Must have been a Ministry occasion. A lengthily one, hopefully.
The sky was dark now, blue-black with a spilling of stars. There was no moon.
I took the door's heavy brass handle and knocked three times, feeling my lips split into a wolfish grin.
I pulled open the heavy door, expecting to see my blonde older brother. My stomach twisted a little when, instead of Draco, I saw only a tall, wide silhouette, positioned just out of the foyer light.
"Hello? Who is it?" I asked, fingers stiff on the door handle. This man possessed that strange, chilling aura of the men father knew. Cold… threatening.
The silhouette shifted and stepped up to the entryway, the yellow light of the foyer behind me spilling over his familiar features. My insides froze.
"Why, Mr. Greyback," I greeted, feigning a tone of pleasant surprise, "I didn't recognize you for a moment."
Fenrir Greyback smiled at me, chapped lips parting to reveal sharp, yellow canines. I quickly looked away from them.
"Hullo, love," he said, voice scratched and breathy, as though he'd smoked one-too-many cigars, "Your daddy home?"
"I- he's…" I couldn't stop staring at his teeth. I gripped the door handle tighter, my stomach a ball of nerves, "He's out right now, Mr. Greyback."
The reply was forced. For some reason, the presence of this man made me impossible nervous. Maybe because I knew he wasn't man all of the time, or because I'd heard his diet consisted particularly of children.
Fenrir cocked his head to the side, studying me. I hid as much as I could behind the door without making it seem like I was a nervous wreck.
"I'll tell him that you stopped by, though," I said, having no intentions of inviting him in. I began to shut the door, looking forward to breathing again, but then he stopped me, placing a large, strong hand on the wood.
He chuckled softly, "Does your father know that your this rude to his friends?" he asked me, eyes dancing. I was perplexed. By no means was this man my father's 'friend'. Acquaintance, maybe.
"He, of course I-" I was stuttering again, causing this man's smile to widen. I didn't like it, "I'm-"
"That's no way to greet a friend, darling," he said, "No, 'how's the pack?' or, 'would you like some tea?'"
I looked at the ground, gluing my eyes to a crack in the stone porch, "How's the pack?" I asked dryly, "Would you like some tea-?"
"-Mr. Greyback." he finished for me, smiling. I got the gist that he was toying with me. "Of course I would."
"Well come in," I said, grudgingly moving away from the door to let him in. He passed me into the foyer and I smelt him; smoke, leather… blood. I held my breath.
"Father would be pleasantly surprised that you visited," I lied.
"Where do you suppose he's gone?" he asked me, looking me dead in the eye. His eyes were unsettling, thick gray irises surrounding tiny, black pupils. They were eyes unlike any I'd ever seen.
"He and my mother have went to a formal ball, at the Ministry."
"And they didn't take you along?" his voice was amused.
"No," I told him shortly, "Follow me into the sitting room. I'll make you some tea, Mr. Greyback."
"Always remember your manners when attending to house guests." Father always told me. I'd been advised to treat his acquaintances with respect. Why, I'd no idea. I wonder if mother would also be pleased that I was serving a big, reeking werewolf tea in our manor's sitting room that was filled with priceless furniture?
"Thanks, love," he said when I brought him a steaming cup.
"It's Cassiopeia," I corrected him, trying not to sound rude. I imagined the people that could call me 'love' or 'darling' would be my parents… or a sweetheart- not a man who ate children for breakfast.
Fenrir raised a thick eyebrow at me, looking pleased, but drank his tea nonetheless.
Cassiopeia, I turned the name over and over in my mind as I sipped the tea she'd prepared, How charming.
Charming name. Charming girl. Charming… taste.
It looked as though she'd inherited more looks from her mother's side of the family. Silky, black hair. Fair complexion, and the most haunting eyes. Like a porcelain doll. And that scent…
"Your pop should be proud to have such a well-mannered daughter," I told her.
She sipped her tea slowly, delicately and then said shortly, "He is."
Mmm… gusty, she is, I smiled to myself and couldn't help but lick my lips. She didn't notice. Good. It wouldn't do for her to put me out just yet… not that I couldn't stop her.
"How is dear Draco?" I asked her.
"Fine. He's supposed get a job soon at the ministry, working under my father." she said. I nearly snorted. Like father, like son.
"You'll be lonely then, with your father and brother working all of the time."
"No. I go back to school next month." she said, every word she uttered sounding a bit unbalanced. I knew she was nervous "I'll soon be sixteen in a few weeks."
I only smiled.
Fenrir downed his tea and sighed, a smile on his rough-looking mouth. I was beginning to notice how truly ragged he was; his chin and sideburns were covered by a mass of stubble and his hands were dirty, sporting long, yellowish fingernails. I shivered. He wasn't wearing Death Eater robes, only a lengthily black trenchcoat and weighty black boots. He was powerfully built, it seemed, which gave me one more reason to fear him.
"Well, I should be going," he said, and I hoped the relief didn't show on my face as he spoke, "There's a lovely spot down the street where all the children play at night."
I shivered and saw him smile at the look of disgust.
I went to the door, opening it for him quickly and he strode out.
"It was a pleasure," I told him, lying again.
"The pleasure was all mine."
I felt the door close behind me, so close to the back of my head, and the clicking of locks. I grinned at how jumpy she was. And how foolish, relying simply on a lock to keep out the bad guys.
So her parents had gone to a Ministry ball? This would be nice… Ministry celebrations usually lasted quite a while. That gave me more time.
Cassiopeia was frightened of me, it seemed. She didn't like it that I mentioned my evening snack. Has Lucius told his daughter of my bad side? Smart man, warning his little girl about people like me.
Too bad he left her all alone.
I couldn't fall asleep. Maybe it was the burly werewolf's unexpected visit that had me all keyed up.
Outside, it had began to rain and I opened up my window a crack to listen to the distant growl of thunder. It soothed me. I laid in bed for quite a while, just barely drifting off until I was snatched by Morpheus's clutches.
It was later when I awoke. Minutes later, hours later. I didn't know. I felt so disoriented.
The rain had ceased, casting down a mantle of cold quiet. I left my bed to shut the window and then jumped as I planted my foot in something icy on the floor: rainwater. Someone had come in. I took my wand with me, gripping it tightly in the pocket of my robes. The stairs creaked louder than usual and it was dark. Much too dark.
I tiptoed into the living room, eyes scanning the darkness, and then I saw someone sitting on the sofa. It was just an outline, still as a statue, and my heart began to beat. I was afraid to light my wand.
"Draco?" I asked, hoping it was my brother who'd returned and was, perhaps, playing a joke on me.
I was greeted by the sound of slow, heavy breathing. The figure was too big to be my older brother, too husky. My nostrils were violated by the smell of wet dog. I stumbled back, and uttered, "Mr. Greyback?"
And then the shadow moved, cocked it's head to one side and answered, "Call me Fenrir."
author's note: Yes, I know the Malfoy's don't have a daughter and that 'Cassiopeia' was the name of a woman in the Black family. That woman and this girl have no relations, though. I wrote this to experiment with creepier tones. I do hope, if you readers do make it to the end to read this note, that you review. I would like to know what you all think.
Thanks!^^