He stood before them and faced eastward.
Greyback could hear the murmurings of the pack. The grumbles of bloodlust.
"You have been allowed to rampage and permitted to run amok for too long," Harry continued. Lightning struck the ground between Harry and Fenrir in huge columns of sun-hot flashes that seemed to be burned into the pack's minds. The instantaneous crashes of thunder deafened them, except for the whisper of the man before them.
The pack gathered behind Greyback and all watched the lone man whose back was turned towards them.
"We've caught you at last, Potter!" Greyback shouted. "You won't escape from us now!"
Harry stood fully upright and slowly spread his arms to his sides. He extended his fingers out and closed his eyes. He could feel the hint of pressure of the light from the countless stars. Slowly he inhaled a deep breath through his nose.
The horde behind Greyback heard his inhalation as if it was next to their ears. They heard his gentle whisper as if his lips were brushing against their necks.
"You've squandered your futures," they heard him say and noted there were now people on the ground where the lightning had struck.
Cornelius Fudge, Delores Umbridge, John Dawlish, Albert Runcorn, and Pius Thicknesse lay on the ground in various states of disarray and awareness.
"You are here to witness the demise of these monsters," Harry said quietly. His voice oozed a cold, distant sensuality. The members of the pack to a person seemed to feel his lips gently brushing their necks just below their ears.
All five newcomers were suddenly aware of their predicament and looked around before their collective attention focused first on Harry and then on the gathered horde of the pack who were, so obviously, werewolves.
Fudge looked at the pack then looked at Harry. "As the Minister of Magic, I order you to destroy them!" he shrieked to Harry.
Harry once more turned his back to the others.
"What…what are you doing, Boy?! I said kill them!" Fudge sputtered and screamed.
"Can you sense it?" Harry whispered rhetorically. "Can you smell it? Taste it?" He slowly began to turn in place until he faced them, his eyes still closed.
"The very earth trembles and groans at the destruction you have wrought. The air whispers your names and the unpunished deeds. The clouds quiver and undulate, dropping not water but tears for all of the innocent blood you have spilled. The stars gaze down upon this world with nearly-seen fire and are ashamed others let you go on so long without even lifting a finger," Harry whispered.
Harry turned back towards the five on the ground. Turned to face the pack. His eyes opened.
Greyback now realized his mistake. The boy's eyes glowed an ethereal green. A cold, wet wind blew from behind Harry towards the gathered horde, filling the valley with an overpowering scent of maggot-filled carrion. The ground between Harry and the ministry officials began to crack and buckle before it churned.
Suddenly, black, ichor-covered horrors broke out of the ground. Their chitin-like skin covered in green-grey mold as the moonlight illuminated their eyeless, seemingly diseased-splotched faces.
For the first time in his adult life, Fenrir Greyback felt fear. A trickle of sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped down his nose. He could hear the members of his pack closest to him as they mewled in terror.
Pius Thicknesse tried to stand and run. One of the unspeakable monstrosities reached him before he could take even a single step. Instead of tearing him apart or biting him in half or any of the other terrifying ways Fenrir thought they would die happened, it almost lovingly embraced the man.
Greyback could hear the keening wail come the man. He had once watched the same man mutilate a pre-Hogwarts muggleborn girl whilst she was still alive supposedly in an attempt to determine how she had stolen a pureblood's magic. The wail the man was making was actually worse than the wail the girl had made just before she had died.
Pius's eyes turned black as Greyback could hear the man's vocal chords begin to shred.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Fudge screamed in terror.
Harry's lips turned upwards in a mockery of a smile. "Killing monsters," he softly replied and snapped his fingers.
Whatever power had held back the other four indescribably fearsome terrors seemed to be unleashed at the sound of Harry's fingers snapping. They loped forward and, just as the first one had done, seemed to gently embrace on of the ministry officials each.
Greyback wanted to run. The fear had gripped him utterly. He wanted to be anywhere as long as it was away from the sights before him. Yet he seemed transfixed; unable to move from bearing witness to the demise of these five.
Their shrieks grew louder and higher pitched and, even as they began to sink into the earth, the level of their desperation seemed to grow. They clawed and scratched in forlorn efforts to get away, but to no avail. Suddenly the night was quiet once more as the last of the five disappeared beneath the once-more-unbroken ground.
Greyback was fixated on the ground before he looked up and noticed Harry's attention was firmly fixed on him.
"Bring me my Lavender, Fenrir," the boy said calmly.
Greyback could only nod as he gestured for the girl to be brought forward.
Two of the pack brought forth a person whose head was covered with a burlap sack. Her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were tethered with a short rope between them.
Greyback gently pulled the sack off her head and trembled in renewed fear. A raw, wide gash ran from just above her right brow, down passed her right, though still-intact, eye, down her right cheek, and ended at the base of her chin.
Greyback noted Harry's slight smile melted into a frown.
Greyback quickly cut the ropes which bound the young witch. She moved to walk towards Harry and stumbled. She would have fallen to the ground except for Greyback, who caught her mid-fall and gently helped her stand.
Rather than risk her falling, Greyback offered his arm and escorted her to Harry.
"My apologies that she came to harm," Greyback stated, surprised at himself at his ability to keep the fear out of his voice.
Harry looked at the were for a moment, a frown upon his face. He turned his eyes to Lavender and cupped the nearly-catatonic girl's scarred cheek with his hand. Greyback could simultaneously feel a hot fire and a wintery chill. He watched in uninterrupted fascination as the gash faded completely and the skin became, once more, completely unblemished. After a few moments, the renewed skin morphed from the pinkness of new skin to blend seamlessly in with the lightly tanned skin, dusted with freckles.
"Take me home, please," Lavender whispered to Harry; her cheek still cupped in his hand and her eyes closed, as she projected exhaustion and weariness.
Harry briefly looked at Fenrir. "We will finish our business another day," Harry whispered. He and Lavender disappeared without a sound even as his words continued to echo in the werewolf's mind for what seemed like hours.