Were And Wing,
Chapter 3,
The dining room of WestCraven manor matched the rest of the stately layout of the place. Grand, formal, and not at all what Remus was accustomed to unless one counted Hogwarts. He didn't, because Hogwarts, though grand, had a feel of home about it that this manor, practically dripping with Pureblood old wealth did not. One of the high backed stately dining chairs had been turned into a perch for Morig, and Raislen waved Remus to the chair beside it. Remus was oddly pleased to be sitting at the harpy's side.
Well perhaps not so oddly. She was friendly and didn't seem to dislike him and he knew Raislen and Heather disliked him richly. Sure they were being polite, but that made it no less uncomfortable to be dining in their home. There were too many unpleasant school memories surrounding Heather and Raislen for Remus to be comfortable around them, especially when obviously nothing had changed.
With this in mind, he felt rather nervous as he lifted his fork to begin eating. Only then did he actually notice what was on his plate. Grilled salmon, potatoes, seasoned vegetables and a wedge of delicious looking old fashioned bread dripping with butter. It all smelled wonderful. As he took his first bite, he glanced over at Morig to see how she liked the food.
She was studying it cautiously and holding the fork at an awkward angle in her slender hand, all a sparkle with brightly painted nails. He opened his mouth to ask what she was accustomed to eating at home...for the sake of conversation and for his own curiosity, but shut it again upon realizing that he really may not want to know, especially while eating.
With that decided, he reached around in his mind for something else to talk of while the silence at the table stretched out. Morig seemed to be occupied with deciding what to try first on her plate, while Heather and Raislen certainly weren't trying to start up a conversation with him. That bit was fine with Remus.
"So," he began, addressing Morig.
"Is there a plan for working with the creatures? As in which ones we approach first and such?"
"Well, I was hoping we could decide that together," Morig said.
"You're from here and all where I'm not. You know a bit more about what sorts of creatures live here and their temperaments. Once you've educated me a bit, I thought we'd go from there deciding who to approach and how. The most dangerous first, I should think. Voldemort will want them too if he bothers to think about it, so we need to get them first. If he doesn't bother to think about it, we still want the most dangerous to help because the more dangerous they are, the more able they are to help us kill the fucker."
As she turned to him, his gaze accidentally dropped to her perky chest, only covered by a ton of sparkling gem encrusted necklaces. Hastily he jerked his eyes upward to her equally pretty face, feeling his own flush with red hot embarrassment. He really hadn't meant to do that! When she so casually referred to the likes of Voldemort as a 'fucker' though, he let out a slightly incredulous laugh, grateful for the distraction.
"It sounds as if you've got it well thought out," he said, still smiling at her as he spoke.
She uplifted his spirits and made him feel at ease in a way he couldn't quite explain, but he was grateful for it. She had him looking forward to whatever else she'd say next.
"Unfortunately, being a werewolf doesn't really have me in the know about all other dangerous creatures if that was what you were thinking, but I am aware of some. I taught Defense Against The Dark Arts at Hogwarts for a year and had to brush up on a bit beforehand so I made a point to study the most dangerous creatures. I don't know how many of them are actually safe to approach, but I'll start by simply educating you on all I can in a decent amount of time and we'll go from there. Perhaps you can even subdue some of them with your...shitting long enough for them to have a conversation with us," he concluded.
He was unable to keep a grin from his face at the thought, disturbingly amusing as it was.
"Though would they be willing to work with you if she pisses them off by shitting," Raislen wondered.
Heather made a sound between a choke and a laugh, but Remus kept his gaze on Morig.
"Well, if they don't see reason, I could always threaten to shit again," Morig suggested, bursting into happy laughter that made Remus laugh as well. Her laugh was like bubbling water that just pulled one along.
"I say we play it by ear, but that is certainly an idea," he told her, still chuckling.
"Okay," she said with a mock sigh of resignation that was ruined by the fact she was still smiling at him.
"The centaurs shall be the hardest to convince, I think," he said thoughtfully.
"While not as outright dangerous as some other creatures in the forbidden forest, they do have useful skills so it would be nice to have them actively on our side."
"The divining," Heather asked, and at last Remus gave the red head a reluctant glance, nodding slightly.
"If they did see something that we could use, that would be excellent. Also I was thinking about their powerful hind kicks. They could do a lot of damage without even having to alert anyone with the use of magic. And they're brilliant archers."
Morig let out a happy laugh.
"That's what I'm talkin' about! Kick that ass," she cheered.
"But why would the centaurs be difficult? I've encountered a few back home and they were rather nice."
She chuckled.
"They didn't even require being shit on!"
"Indeed special," Lupin remarked, lips twitching.
"The centaurs here aren't so friendly... Toward humans at least."
He gave her a sudden, hopeful smile.
"Perhaps they'd appreciate you more, though. And that would give me more credit by proxy."
Morig arched her brows at him before returning her attention to the piece of bread she'd just picked up.
"But you're not a human. You're a bad ass werewolf."
Remus was suddenly struck by an entirely foreign feeling of...embarrassed chagrin. He'd always apologized for his werewolf side...to himself and others in nearly equal measures. Never had he ever considered apologizing for not exactly excelling at that werewolf side he'd always so hated and rejected.
For once, though, that werewolf side was being actively sought after, which was a bit of a first.
"I'm not exactly that sort of werewolf," he mumbled.
Morig put the wedge of bread back down on her plate, attention now fully on Remus as her brows arched in question.
"What sort are you then?"
He swallowed, turning his own attention to his plate. Hastily he scooped a bite onto his fork and ate, hardly noticing what it was that he was chewing.
"The sort who doesn't enjoy what he is," he said quietly.
He had to practically force the words out, and at that moment, he wanted to be anywhere else other than where he was. Not because he disliked Severus's friends, though he did. Not because he didn't enjoy Morig's company, because he enjoyed it a lot.
Because he hated talking about this...To anyone truly, but especially to those he did not call friends or the engaging and pretty harpy who seemed to like him. That wouldn't last long, though, once she learned how little he liked himself, or at least the aspect that had gotten him into this situation. Raislen and Heather had requested him for this job because he was a werewolf. He found himself glancing up at them to see mild shock on their faces, and he smiled dryly. They had no idea how he felt about the werewolf... situation that had been forced onto him in childhood.
Part of him was surprised that Albus hadn't mentioned it at least in passing, because how many werewolves actually hated being what they were...but then again Albus was always one to respect the privacy of others to the utmost.
"But why wouldn't you like being a bad ass werewolf," Morig asked incredulously.
"I don't feel like a bad ass werewolf," Remus replied, nearly feeling sympathetic for how openly perplexed she was over that concept.
"When I was a young child, I was bitten by an evil werewolf who had a grudge against my father for making a comment about werewolves. I was too young to understand the implications, but I was still terrified."
He shuddered at the memory that never truly faded, and was always happy to raise its ugly head at any mention of the incident.
"At the time I was certain he was going to kill me, but he only bit me to turn me into something my father would have to accept or hate. It made me believe my father was right to feel werewolves were basically evil," he admitted.
"That's severely fucked up," Morig said, eyes widening slightly.
Then she frowned.
"Did you kill him?"
"I was five," Remus exclaimed incredulously, but couldn't help giving a short laugh.
She was something else, but he liked her. He liked the way she made him feel and he'd never thought of another person in that way, not even his three closest school friends.
"I meant later," Morig amended.
"You didn't kill him later?"
Remus shrugged.
"He has a pack. I'd be going up against the entire pack and I would die."
This was true. Going up against Greyback would likely be a suicide mission due to afore mentioned pack, but in truth Remus just didn't have it in him even to contemplate it. It just wasn't his way. Perhaps because he was decent, at least he liked to think so. He liked to think this made him better than Fenrir Greyback, but perhaps it just made him a useless werewolf.
"Do you want to kill him now, Morig asked with a grin.
"Because we could do that. Do you think he'd help Voldemort? If so killing him may even be necessary."
"Perhaps he would help Voldemort just to spite humanity," Remus said bitterly.
"If Voldemort would lower himself to use werewolves is another question and I have no idea. As for killing him, right now I just want to stay away from him as long as possible."
Morig shrugged.
"Have it your way. If we do have to be around him, though, I think we should kill him. If his pack is with him, I can just...Well I was going to say I would just shit on all of them, but I probably don't have that much shit in me so we'll need another plan."
Remus burst into laughter, shaking his head.
The casual way she spoke of killing should've been more unsettling. Instead he was just amused. Unlike him, she was naturally what she was. A predator in a sense, and a natural born killer. A raptor bird as much as she was a human woman. He, on the other hand was no natural werewolf. He'd not been raised to be nor would he have wished to be. He'd rather die than be like Fenrir Greyback.
"So after dinner, we can start going over all the creatures that probably live in the Forbidden Forest," he said, wishing very much to think of something other than himself.
"I'll take notes and keep it organized."
Morig nodded.
"Sounds good. Then perhaps tomorrow we can begin seeking them out."
That was fast, but Remus decided that was fine with him. Whatever kept them out of this manor was good. Being under the roof of Severus's friends was never going to be comfortable or pleasant even if they managed not to speak a rude word to him.
Considering Raislen had already gotten physical earlier today, he didn't want to press his luck when it came to their long term civility.
"We'll have to plan out a general method of approach for each sort of creature once I've made you aware of all of them, so there will be a bit of planning involved," he told Morig.
She nodded and for a bit they turned their attention to the uncomplicated act of having dinner.
"I have several books on magical creatures in the library," Raislen said after a few minutes in which everyone simply ate.
"I can bring them into the parlor after dinner in case you need any reference material, and the two of you can work in there. I'll also supply you with quills and parchment for anything you'll need to write down."
Remus nodded and murmured his thanks.