*Authors Note* This is just an idea that came to me randomly and is also the first piece of writing I've ever posted. I'm nervous about putting my work out to be read so please send some feedback and let me know what you think. By the way, this story has writen itself with my only active contribution being the work it's taking to type it all out and post it. For those who are wondering when Harry actually makes an appearance, just get to chapter four. Just please remember this story isn't about Harry. It's about Lupin.
I do not own Harry Potter nor any of the other characters therein.
Chapter One - The Hunt
The cemetery was empty and peaceful at this time of the night. Just as it should always be, thought the lone cloaked figure entering the gates. It was a large cemetery as far as cemeteries for small towns such as this went but the figure didn't mind. It just meant that there was a larger chance for confrontation. As the figure passed each row of graves it checked each direction counting how many were newly dug. When it reached the approximate middle it stopped and sat on a stone bench and started waiting and watching. Two hours later the figure was still sitting vigilantly on the bench but nothing had happened. There had been no sound, no movement among the graves save for the occasional small animal or owl out looking for food or safety depending. Though the person had shown no signs of motion themselves they seemed to realize dawn was only a few hours away as they sighed slightly and lay back on the bench.
"A whole night wasted here. I had been sure this had been no ordinary plague." The figure muttered to itself as it gazed up at the stars.
Suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes behind the fence to the right of the bench and the figure went motionless, not even daring to breathe. The rustling grew closer and a thousand thoughts ran through the hunters head. Was this what they'd been waiting for? Was this the thing that had caused so many deaths? It had to be something, it was much too large for an animal. Slowly the figure's head turned to face the fence and once again became motionless.
Now the branches could be seen moving. It was close whatever it was and as far as visibility was concerned the hunter was thankful of having chosen to lay down. Eyes appeared in the leafs and scanned the cemetery slowly just as the hunter had upon arriving earlier the day before. Finally the creatures eyes locked on the hunters and they stared at each other for a long moment. The eyes in the bushes shifted as though the creature had tilted it's head in confusion.
The hunters patience was growing thin. While laying flat on the bench had provided enough cover to lure the creature in far enough to be seen, it also prevented the hunter from attacking. Being forced to hope that the creature was foolish enough to get closer didn't sit well. If it were smart it would simply turn and run and the hunter doubted whether it would be possible to track it through the thick undergrowth running along that side of the fence. The creature would be lost and it would cost the hunter another night in the cemetery hoping it hadn't vacated the town. And on top of the wasted time it would also cut into the hunters pay. This was definitely not a favorable situation though it was too late now to change it. Suddenly the eyes darted up to the top of the fence, back to the hunter still laying prone on the bench and then back to the top of the fence.
It seemed that the creature was debating entering the cemetery after all. Was dawn too close for it to risk having to find somewhere else to sleep? The hunter didn't dare check the sky to see how light it had become. Nothing that could jeopardize the hunters life could be allowed. The Order would rather a hunter lose the prey than to lose a hunter to the prey. Breath still held the hunter waited and prayed. The eyes had studied the top of the fence for some time now but suddenly they disappeared. The hunter still didn't move. There was no sound of retreat so the hunt was still on. Seconds that seemed to be years to the hunter passed before the creature suddenly jumped over the fence and into full view. It was huge, easily the largest creature the hunter had ever seen in person, and at nearly eight feet tall standing on it's back legs it was nearly three feet taller than the hunter. It was something new. It walked on both back legs for a bit and then lowered itself to all fours as it approached the hunters bench. Shaggy grey fur covered it's body and it was sniffing the air with a short wolfish snout.
Realization hit the hunter. A werewolf. Not what the hunter was trained to fight. And that didn't make much sense. The threat had been perceived as vampiric due to the way the victims seemed to wither and die in their sleep. But there wasn't time for the hunter to dwell too much on these facts as the beast was still advancing. When it was only a row away it stopped and sniffed the air again. This time it didn't seem to like what it smelled since it lowered it's front half as if to pounce, raised it's hackles in a growl, and the fur along it's spine stood on end.
The time for passiveness was over. The hunter rolled away from the werewolf and off the bench. As the hunter straightened up it pulled two small hand crossbows from under the cloak and fired at the creature. Unable to remember if the wood of the bolt would be able to weaken werewolves the way it did for vampires the hunter had gone against regulations and aimed to kill though it ended up not mattering as the wolf was quick enough to dodge both bolts easily. The sudden aggression from its chosen victim seemed to infuriate the beast and it launched itself at the person.
It was too fast! Or was it that the hunter was too slow? Either way the hunter was knocked to the ground and easily pinned under the beast's weight. Unable to reach any of the weaponry under the cloak the hunter did the only thing left, kicking and bucking, anything that could possibly dislodge the wolf. Nothing seemed to really be working, only angering it even further so the hunter concentrated on making the kicks and punches more accurate and started knocking it's legs out from under it. While it was true that this made the hunter an easier target to bite it kept the beast unstable and for the moment that seemed to be the right move. Every time the beast would start to lose balance it seemed to focus more on regaining it's footing than attacking.
As the hunter's foot connected for the fourth time with the monster's back right leg the hunter took a quick peek at the lightening sky. If the beast could just be held off until sunrise the hunter should be safe. It seemed the time had been misjudged before due to cloud cover because the sky was already a early morning blue. Sunrise had to be coming fast. But it was time that the hunter was short of at the moment. Already the creature seemed to be tiring of the game and seemed to be getting more and more determined to eat. The hunter gathered every last bit of energy and planted both feet into the werewolves stomach and kicked. The creature reared back and the hunter tried to scramble away intending to run only to turn headlong into a nearby gravestone. The hunter slumped to the ground stunned and still unable to go for the weapons concealed beneath the cloak. Hot breath on the neck indicated the end and, sure enough, only seconds later the hunter screamed as the sharp fangs of the wolf tore through cloak, armor, flesh. It was the last thing the hunter knew.
