Taking Charge
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
by Drauchenfyre
A/N: Yes, I checked the Lunar Calendar to find what day the full moon was in January 1992. I'm that anal retentive.
Chapter 11: A Werewolf in London
19 January 1992
East End, London
Less than an hour to the moonrise.
Fenrir Greyback, born Franklin Hardbotham, always loved this time: the anticipation, the readiness for the hunt.
At moonrise, he would hunt- and kill.
The Wizengamot and the more pro-human factions of wizarding society had spent decades demonizing werewolves, holding up Fenrir Greyback as an example of the monsters they were. What few of these bigots realized was that Frank Hardbotham was a nasty piece of work before he was Turned- Scotland Yard already had warrants out for his arrest for four counts of Murder One, and he was lead suspect in several more.
But what could you expect from a twisted sixteen-year-old who idolized Jack the Ripper, and sought to continue his 'great work'?
Lycanthropy didn't make Fenrir Greyback a killer.
It just gave him new tools to use.
Stalking through the streets of London's East End, Greyback prowled for his first victim. He liked to sate the bloodlust quickly- once the Wolf had its first kill of the night, it was easier to control- easier for Greyback to pull back and prolong his kills- enjoy their suffering.
Maybe he'd Turn another child tonight- another youngling to raise to hate the humans that would shun him.
There.
Huddled in a doorway, what looked like a mother and child, wrapped in blankets to fight the cold. They were alive- he could smell them from here.
They would do.
Just in time, as the moon emerged from the clouds.
Fenrir Greyback felt little pain from his transformation. That was because, unlike most weres, he didn't fight the change into a ravening beast.
He embraced it.
Rearing back to howl, in a tableau that Hollywood would kill to put in a monster movie, Greyback moved in for the kill. With a snarl, he pounced, jaws snapping-
Only to whine in pain as his jaws closed on metal.
A familiar, hated metal.
He felt a yawning sensation in his stomach, and pulled back quickly.
Reassessing his prey, he saw the woman standing proud, he face still hidden by her hood, but both hands clad in gleaming metal gauntlets. The child, whose face was also hidden, didn't stand like a child. It stood like a warrior- a Goblin warrior- as it held a gleaming shortsword dripping with blood.
Blood?
Fenrir, now feeling woozy, looked down and saw the gaping hole in his stomach. His were-enhanced healing wasn't kicking in.
Goblin Steel.
Goblin steel was always crafted with trace amounts of mithril- a magically-enhanced variant of silver.
The world started to waiver- then all was dark.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
Staring down at the cooling form of Wizarding Europe's most notorious serial killer, Filius Flitwick and Perenelle Flamel cleaned the Goblin Steel they carried of the Werewolf's blood and saliva.
It was over, just like that.
A simple trap, complete with notice-me wards keyed to the killer, and the pair of academics had taken down a monster and ended his decades-long reign of terror.
When Albus had suggested this ambush to deal with one of Europe's Most Wanted, Filius had jumped at the plan. Perenelle had followed quickly after.
Attaching a Portkey to the corpse, Filius prepared to deliver the body to the Ministry- and collect the 50,000 Galleon bounty (dead, don't bother with alive), to be donated to the school for the purposes of replacing the school's shoddy brooms. Looking up at his companion, he frowned.
"Coming, Penny?"
"You go, Filius. I shall be heading back to Hogwarts directly," she replied with an archaic French lilt.
Filius nodded, "Be careful. Werewolves aren't the only danger in the back alleys at night- particularly to a woman travelling alone."
Penny smirked at the half-goblin, "Fear not, Filius. In a past incarnation, I took the name Jeanne D'Arc. I think I still remember my way around a blade."
Filius smirked in return, saluted with his blade, and activated the Portkey.
Perenelle Flamel stared at the blood on the pavement, as the rain began, slowly washing away the last signs of Franklin Hardbotham. Finally, she spoke.
"Oh, my sweet little Frankie- Mommy is so disappointed in the monster you became. I hope you suffer in Hell for what you forced your dear mother to do to stop you."
CHAPTER END
A/N2: Yes, Albus & Co. are getting proactive against the Dark Lord's followers and allies now. Albus wants to make sure that, even if Voldie makes it back into a body before they destroy the Horcruxes (On the Summer Solstice), he will be at a severe disadvantage in his bid for conquest. That means taking away weapons like Greyback.
