Don't own anything recognisable from JK Rowling's Harry Potter books.

The Werewolf's Weakness.

The Beginning.

She was sat in the corner of a muggle bar, and although she was the only one sat at the table, it was filled with empty glasses.

With her elbows planted firmly on the table, he hands cupping the chin of her heart shaped face, and her long blonde hair let loose and dragging in the wet patches of alcohol she had spilt Lunar would be noticeable anywhere. The fact that she was talking to no one about nonsense just made her even more eye-catching.

"The Ministry are just a bunch of old tosspot wizards who wouldn't know a rule if it came and bit them on the arse!" Her usually creamy complexion was flushed with alcohol and anger, and her eyes were partly glazed over with the vodka she had drunk. She turned to a group of men who had come in earlier to watch a sport's game on TV, and (if that's possible) were in a worse state than her.

"Can you imagine it?" She slurred. "They fired me! And why I hear you ask."

The men murmured along with her, they thought she was pretty even though she was spinning. "Because I gave my brother a file!" Her voice rose to an extremely high pitch. "Along with some other things not really worth mentioning…" She slumped on the table in dejection muttering "Miserable gits!".

She rose from the table and stood up, her chair fell over behind her.

"I am going to lead a rebellion! Who's with me?" She declared to the bar. She then sat down on the chair that was no longer there, giggling uncontrollably as she attempted to pull herself off of the floor using the table.

The barman, who had watched the show she had put on walked over to her. "Okay lady. You've had enough." He pulled her off the floor. "Where do you live?"

She laughed and put her arms around his neck. "Timbuktu!"

The men watching her created a circle around the barman. "We'll take her home!" One of them sneered.

The bartender looked at them suspiciously. "Do you know where she lives?"

"Course!" One of them elbowed another to stop him from talking. "She'll be safe with us. No problem."

Lunar – in her drunken state –pushed herself away from the bartender and headed towards the first man who spoke. He had blondish hair, but something about him reminded her of Sirius. The man caught her when she almost collapsed to the floor near him. "My saviour!" She exaggeratedly batted her eyelashes at him. "Of course they can take me home!" She declared.

"Are you sure lady? I can get you a taxi!" The barman said to Lunar, his eyes still on the group of men around him.

"I'll be (hic) fine! God you're just like my brother!" She turned her glazed eyes to the man holding her. "Lead on!"

They staggered out of the bar.

Lunar felt herself being dropped on the pavement a couple of blocks away from the bar. "This isn't my house!" She slurred.

"No it isn't." The blonde guy mocked her. He turned to the group who were looking at Lunar intently. "I told you guys that we'd find a little fun at a muggle bar! Here she is! Sirius Black's sister, and an Auror as well!"

She frowned. "You're wizards?" She slurred, attempting to push herself from the floor.

"No…" The blonde guy sneered sarcastically at her. "And we don't like to be associated with that type." He grinned leeringly.

"Then…?" She sunk to the floor. The pavement kept slipping from her hands so she gave up trying to sit up.

"Ahhh… It's time." He lifted his sleeve and she saw the dark mark on it.

"No!" She tried to crawl away from them, but she had drunk too much and left her wand at home.

"Avery! Hurry! Lord Voldemort is calling us." Another man said seriously.

"Yes… And she will be our gift to him."