Greyback/Petunia
The sun was sinking on Privet Drive, as Petunia Dursley made her way back up the street, her arms laden with shopping bags. Vernon had taken Dudley out in the car, only minutes before Petunia had decided that she needed to get some more groceries; they were being shipped off by some of Harry's people in a few days after all and she had no idea what kind of food they ate. Harry had told her not to leave the house alone, but she hadn't listened; the idea of being stuck for god-knows how long without her specific brand of tea was unthinkable.
Going without the car might've been a mistake though, she thought as she struggled to keep everything in her hands.
"Do you need help with those?"
Petunia started. A man had appeared from nowhere, his hair long and matted, his clothes ripped. He looked almost feral! Petunia hesitated; there was something intelligent in his eyes and something else in his voice.
"Yes, thank you," she replied finally, "I'm headed just up the street."
As the man took the bag from her, his fingers brushed over her palm and Petunia gave an involuntary shiver, as if a small bolt of electricity had just been sent through her body.
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"Petunia," she replied.
"It figures," he said, in response to a questioning look, "A flower. Beautiful."
When they reached Number 4, Petunia went to take the bag back. The man gently wrapped his hand around her wrist and held her to the spot, his eyes running over her face. Petunia felt the breath catch in her throat. Suddenly he let her go, slipping the plastic handles over her wrist and stepping back with a slight bow. Petunia, slightly terrified and completely exhilarated, stumbled back to the house.
Fenrir Greyback watched her go, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, the Muggle woman had made him remember what it was like to not have this curse running through his veins. Odd, that somebody could still do that after so long. Fenrir walked away; the Muggle woman would live. For now.