Remus stepped carefully through the shadowy woodland, shivering at the bite of the January night wind. The werewolves were nearby: it was close enough to the full moon that he could smell them, their peculiar scent that was part human and part animal. He wondered if Dumbledore had chosen to give him his mission right before his transformation on purpose, to make it easier for him to track the wolves he needed to find.
As always, Remus was struck by how much he preferred the natural world to the human one around this time of the month: the sounds and smells were so much softer, the night so much more inviting to his dark-adjusted eyes. He understood why werewolves would want to live away from civilization, even though he was well aware of the fact that it wasn't entirely by choice.
The undergrowth shivered off to Remus's right; turning his head, he spotted two dark figures slipping sneakily through the brush. Werewolves.
Remus went suddenly tense, his heart freezing within his chest; he'd never actually met another werewolf before. He was acutely aware of how different he was compared to most of his kind: Hogwarts educated, friends with wizards, living in a house instead of a forest. But he knew that if his parents had given him up after his bite the way that so many others had, he would be just like the two half-naked men creeping towards him, nails sharpened and teeth bared. It was an extraordinarily uncomfortable feeling.
"What kind of wolf are you?" one of the werewolves asked, his nostrils flaring as he took in Remus's scent.
"A wolf who reckons he's a wizard," said the other. Hs eyes were glued to the wand trembling between Remus's fingers.
Remus lifted his head, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. "I'm here as an envoy for the Order of the Phoenix," he told the wolves. "Albus Dumbledore has asked me to deliver a message to the leader of your pack."
"A werewolf working for the Order?" The first man's lips drew back in a derisive snarl. "Who the hell do you think you are?" As he spoke, the other man darted suddenly forward, quick as a viper, and snatched the wand from Remus's grasp.
"Hey!" Remus gasped, whipping around to see him stuff the wand into his tattered trousers. The man grinned.
"We'll take you to see Caerny," he said. "But not with your magic stick."
The two of them grabbed Remus roughly by the arms and dragged him forward. Remus felt his breaths hollowing out—he felt naked without his wand, defenseless. He knew a bit of wandless magic, but not enough to face off against a pack of werewolves alone. Why hadn't he allowed the Marauders to come with him, at least in their animal forms?
Chill out, he told himself as the wolves led him through the woods. The worst thing a werewolf could do to you has already been done.
Remus was led into a small, marshy clearing filled with hastily-constructed huts and shacks: the pack's camp. Men and women of various ages and states of dress huddled around the large fire at the center of the camp, their eyes quickly flitting to Remus and his captors as they came into view.
"What is this?" growled a large man, rising from his perch by the fire. "A new wolf come to join us?"
Remus's escorts gave deep bows. "Afraid not, Caerny," one of them said. "He's here to deliver a message from Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore?" Caerny stepped closer to Remus, frowning. His hands shaking, Remus reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out the letter in which Dumbledore had explained his proposal to the pack, handing it over.
Caerny unfolded the letter and read through it, his expression sharpening with every line. Once he'd finished, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it backwards into the fire. "Tie him up, Lexen."
"What?" Remus's escorts pushed him down onto his knees, and another werewolf with a cord of rope slung over his shoulder helped them drag him up to a wooden post by the fire and tie him to it. Panicking, Remus summoned a ball of flames into his hand, slamming it down onto someone's arm; the wolf leaped back with a yelp, but two more came in to finish the process, tying Remus's hands together behind the post like handcuffs. Another length of rope was fastened around his neck, nearly tight enough to crush his windpipe.
Remus couldn't Apparate away, not while he was bound so closely to an object sunk deep into the earth; he'd risk Splinching himself, or worse. The werewolves knew exactly how to trap him.
"Why?" he choked out, glaring up at Caerny.
"That letter said you're a member of the Order of the Phoenix," he replied. "We've sworn to turn all members of the Order over to Fenrir Greyback."
"I thought you were supposed to be different than him," Remus growled.
"Why, because we don't like to bite innocent children?" Caerny knelt down in from of Remus, his breath stinking of dirt and flesh. "We don't imprison ourselves in enchanted shacks every full moon, either." Remus's blinked, surprised; Caerny gave a little laugh. "I've heard about you, boy. The wolf that Dumbledore let into Hogwarts. Bet you think you're lucky, but we know better." Caerny yanked up Remus's shirt, revealing the scars crisscrossing his chest. "You have these because of wizards like him, locking you up every month to tear yourself to bits instead of running free like the rest of us. It's unnatural, boy, for wolves to live amongst wizards. You're meant to have a pack, other wolves to keep you sane when you turn."
"I do have a pack."
"Not one who understands you," Caerny said. "It's sad, really. Dumbledore pulled you into his world when you were just a little pup, made you feel like you owed him something for deigning to treat you like a real wizard. And it was all so he could have his own werewolf lackey once you came of age."
"That's not true," Remus murmured. Is it? whispered a small voice inside of him regardless.
"You need to get your head out of your arse, boy, and realize that Dumbledore doesn't care about people like us. None of them do; if they did, they wouldn't have waited until we're in the middle of a war to offer us some basic human dignity." Caerny turned to nod at the man holding Remus's wand. "Get rid of that thing."
"With pleasure." The man held out the wand and snapped it in two against his knee, its smoothed cypress wood splintering apart with a shower of golden sparks. Remus felt like part of himself was breaking along with it.
"No!" he yelled, straining against his bindings. He tried to call fire into his hands again—if he could just burn through the ropes, he could free himself, and Apparate away from here….
"I don't think so," said a woman behind him as a weak flame sprouted above his palm. She was brandishing a large metal rod, slapping it against her hand.
"Do it, Alisi," Caerny said. "I'll talk to Fenrir."
"Wait," Remus begged as Caerny turned to leave. "Please, just listen to me—"
The rod cracked against Remus's head; he slumped to the ground, his vision going black and his thoughts going blank as he slipped instantly out of consciousness.
