Hello guys. I hope all are doing well. It has been a while, and I apologise for that. I have been otherwise engaged in certain obligations that I must look into. I can focus back here now that I am getting out of those.

The next chapter is here for you. To read ahead and gain access to a Harry Fleur pairing exclusive, you can do so on my patr3on portal- patr30n (slash)hadrianpotterpeverell (replace and replace the word slash with the actual symbol)

Let me know how the chapter is. Enjoy…

Chapter 17- The Wolf Neutralization

"When is it?" One of the men sitting around a table questioned the larger man that just arrived and took up a spot across from him. "Don't keep me waiting; speak up. When is it?"

"Why don't you shut up for a minute, Hector?" The man who had just arrived growled. "Let me breathe for a moment before you decide to accost me with your jabber." His gnarled face looked menacing in the dimly lit fire. "You go on and on without a break. For the love of Merlin, if that tongue of yours were made of wood, it would be in pieces by now."

The man, identified as Hector, glowered at the other man. "Huddled up here, no food, no light. It has been ages since we stepped out, and you ask why I blabber."

"Well, you can put that aside for now. Tomorrow, we will hunt." The five men around him cheered jubilantly at the declaration. "The moon will be out tomorrow and right on time. Have your fill. We can do as we please."

Hector grinned, barring his sharp yellow teeth. "That is the first good news I have heard in days, Fenrir." The man, now identified as Fenrir, chuckled.

"Why did it take so long?" Hector questioned. "It shouldn't have if what you tell us is anything to go by. He has the support of the big shots, doesn't he? It has been a month and a half since the attack on the Express, and it seems the man has disappeared without a trace."

"The only downside to a revolution is it takes days, months and even years to take fruit. It might seem successful one day and a complete failure the other. Yet, you keep up the pace." Fenrir explained. "What he has offered is not something that we would ever receive from any other source, and we must take advantage of it rightfully. Our lives would be so very different by the end of this, Hector."

"You sure you can trust him, Greyback?" The man questioned. "We have seen what happens to our kind. How we are treated and how we are labelled as."

"The people who do that are the ones we have aligned ourselves with. Every single one of them would be happy to be rid of us the first chance they get. They would not hesitate to kill us, and you know that." Hector said.

"Have you ever seen the likes of Abraxus Malfoy or Lestrange try to have a civil conversation with our lot?" He questioned. "They wouldn't even let us near them, and you think they would give us equal rights? Not a chance."

"You let me worry about that," Greyback growled. "Your job is to keep this lot under control and ensure you look for any others that can be brought in."

"You can growl at me however you like, Fenrir, but when my words come true, which I hope they don't, we will all be history. And not in a good way." Hector sighed before getting up and leaving; the three other men seated with him left behind him, not wishing to anger Fenrir.

Fenrir Greyback watched the man go and spat behind him. He picked up a bottle of rum from within his cloak and chugged a round. He could not wait for tomorrow night. His pack had been feeding on strays picked up here and there, and it had been ages since they had their fill. Tomorrow, it will be different. He had been assured that they could attack the place of their choice.

His mind invariably took him back to what Hector spoke of. Hector had been with him for ages, gathering men along the way, hunting, starving, and transforming together. A good friend he had picked up along the way. Nearly four decades, and they had yet to part ways.

He had never spoken against any of his decisions. Not a single one, and yet, for some reason, he had decided to speak up today. Was he right in fearing the Dark Lord? He had not seen any reason to. What he had received as a promise was something other than what he would ever assume he would receive.

The ministry would register the werewolf population, but they would ultimately provide no benefit. The reason they would collect every detail possible was to ostracise them. They would be discriminated against without hesitation, became social pariahs and termed monsters. There would be no jobs for them. There would be no help during their extremely painful conversions.

The wolfsbane had been a potion that helped during these conversions, but the potion price was not something they could afford. How could they? They had no job and never would have a well-paying one. None would employ them even for the meanest of jobs. For this very reason, the werewolves lived divided and isolated around Britain.

He and Hector had managed to grow their pack in numbers. Greyback's notoriety made it difficult to be together. He had no qualms about his situation. He had accepted his life very quickly and embraced it. He lived as every beast would. He had earned his notoriety this way. Fenrir Greyback was the most dangerous werewolf because he decided to embrace his true self and behave exactly like many assumed, like a wild beast.

Hector had been loyal to him all his life. He would continue to do so. Of that,

he had no doubts. But why did he hesitate today? What was the reason he spoke this way? Is there a reason for what he was trying to convey?

He thought about everything they talked about. Was he right? Was it all worth it? His loyalty. His unbridled support? Will he be pushed aside when all is said and done?

He shook his head, taking another swig. No. There will be nothing of that sort. His imagination was running wild. He would see to it that nothing of that sort takes place. He was nothing if not resourceful. One does not earn the reputation he possessed, being bound by the shackles of society.

His ears pricked slightly as he picked up on the sound of soft footsteps. He thought it might be Hector. He returned to his drink and downed another gulp when he felt a crushing force on his throat.

Greyback coughed as he choked on his drink, the liquid messing up his breathing as he felt somebody squeeze him by his throat. His vision swam as he felt his breathing ability reduce drastically.

The next thing he knew, he flew out of his chair and slammed into the wall as he felt his throat relax. He could barely open his eyes but recognised a blurry figure ahead of him.

"Who the fuck are you?" He growled as he tried to shoot up to his feet, failing to do so as he felt excruciating pain in his ankle. He wobbled onto his feet with great difficulty and managed to do so.

"You better run, lad. Do you have any idea about who you are messing with?"

The werewolf roared as pain shot through his body, as the man flicked his wand. He tried to remain on his feet, but the pain was too much to bear.

"Who…who….are you?" He growled slightly as he stopped screaming for a second.

The mysterious person held his wand loosely to his side, his head seemingly cocked to the side.

Greyback, who was slowly trying to get back on his feet, charged and slammed into his assailant in a surprising burst of pace.

The man was taken by surprise as a sickening crunch was heard when Greyback threw a punch to the now downed man. "Fucking die!" Greyback growled, barring his teeth as he clutched the man's throat with all his might, trying to suffocate his attacker.

"Told you messing with me was a bad idea." He muttered, but the struggling man, who seemed to have almost given up, smirked at the werewolf. Greyback's eyes widened as he was thrown back with surprising intensity and crashed into his previously occupied chair.

The man stood up like he wasn't attacked and walked towards the werewolf, downed in a heap of the now broken chair. The man made to raise his wand but was yanked down by his leg. Greyback was not willing to give up.

Greyback was onto the man in a flash, his speed shocking considering his condition. He clutched the man's arm, twisting it with all his might, not caring if he was succeeding with his actions. He was getting desperate.

Just when he seemed to be getting the upper hand, the werewolf felt the wind leave his body, and his senses shut down for a second as he felt his throat numb for a moment. The next thing he knew, he clutched his throat, trying desperately to breathe as he tried to gasp in some air that failed to reach his lungs.

He gasped for air as he was pulled up and held upright. He tried to push his attacker away, but his body failed to comply with his instructions.

"Your reputation is not a joke, Fenrir." He gasped once again as he tried to inhale more air, finding it extremely challenging to keep his eyes open.

"You know, I didn't expect this from you. You fought admirably. It was some time ago that I had a fight which was this exhilarating. " The man chuckled.

"W…wh..who…" The now weakened werewolf gasped painfully. The man hummed. "It would be unfair on my part to kill you without letting you know who was responsible for it. You deserve to know."

The werewolf felt his senses return gradually, and his eyes focused again towards the visage staring at him with an easy smile.

Fenrir Greyback looked at the man, and his eyes widened beyond what was possible as he felt sweat break out from his face. "N..n..no." Greyback shook his head, not believing what he was seeing. "Impossible."

"Certainly not." The man whispered, laughing at the werewolf. "Anyway, time to go." The bulky stock of the werewolf went limp, and the man dropped the dead body onto the floor.

"Huh. That was eventful." The man whispered, looking around at his handiwork before a grin split his face. "Excellent."

BREAK

"FENRIR GREYBACK DEAD"

Harry was in shock as he read the headlines. Was Greyback dead? He picked up the paper and read the article as carefully as possible. He was found dead in the main street of Knockturn Alley. There was no witness regarding how the dead body of the werewolf landed in the middle of the shady section of Diagon Alley. Still, despite all the buzz in that area, especially at night, the body appeared out of nowhere, scaring many people. He looked at the photo once again. Greyback's eyes were wide with what Harry guessed as fear. He could feel the fear on that face despite it remaining lifeless.

"Just what was going on here?" He questioned nobody in particular. This was the third time he had been surprised. Travers case a couple of months back, then the guy at the King's Cross station in the floo room, and now, Fenrir Greyback. He couldn't understand the last one. He had never put it past Tom to kill his followers. He would never give them a moment of his time if he did not need them. Snape was the prime example.

But Greyback? Especially when he had a lot of work left to do. The first two killings had a dark mark to identify with, but this one didn't. He read that this place was not the place of death.

He was deep in thought when he heard their elf popping in. "Tippy has a letter for Master." The little elf squeaked, and Harry accepted the letter and opened it. The Minister had asked for his presence instantly. He could guess what this was about but complied.

He was walking towards the door of the Minister's office in a few minutes. There was no Umbridge to stop him or ask questions, and he didn't wish to deal with the woman right now.

He knocked on the door and heard the Minister ask him to come in. He stepped into her office and sat at the woman's urging.

"I know what this is about, and no. I was not responsible for this." He said with absolution.

"I needed to know." The woman shrugged as her shoulders slacked ever so slightly. "You talked about Greyback associated with this Lord Voldemort, and now, Greyback has ended up dead."

"This is all confusing to me as well, Minister." Harry began. "I stand by what I said. I would bet the entirety of the Potter and Black vaults that Greyback was in cohorts with him. As I pointed out, he is the only one who can offer much freedom to the Werewolves and take that away instantly, which I am confident they have no idea about. But I have no idea if he is responsible for this or somebody else."

The minister seemed to be satisfied with his answer. She looked to be deep in thought as the two sat in silence. "Very well. I will look into it. Thank you for coming in quickly, Lord Potter Black." Harry nodded as he stood up and exited the office.

Things were changing, and Harry was worried. This would pose a problem. It would have been easier if things moved precisely as he knew them, but that was not the case for some reason. Of course, things had to be messed up. He would never have anything simple.

He was accosted by Daphne as soon as he stepped into the Potter Manor.

"Greyback is dead?" She questioned, shocked by what she had read. She was surprised by what happened with Travers, but Greyback dying out of the blue was unexpected.

This is the second incident that is sowing doubts in my mind. This is not what happened back then, is it? Things are changing. Are you doing something?" She narrowed her eyes questioningly

Harry shook his head. "No." He denied her accusation. "I don't know what is happening here, but I am not responsible." He said.

The young woman regarded Harry for a moment before relenting. "Fine." The two moved to the dining room, where the rest of the family was arriving for breakfast.

To Harry's surprise, James was engrossed in the newspaper, his expression one of concentration as he read the headlines. "Greyback is dead?" Harry and Daphne nodded.

"Good." Harry was not surprised by his words, not as much as Daphne and Charlus, who had just arrived.

"He deserved it," James muttered, his fists tightening around the newspaper.

"James?" Charlus cut in. "What do you mean by that?" He questioned.

"It was him. He is the reason Remus is…." James cut off abruptly, his eyes widening.

"No hide and seek," Charlus warned. "I should know the exact facts when I hear something." James looked towards Harry, who nodded reassuringly.

"Remus was bitten by Greyback when he was five. That is why he undergoes so much pain for at least half a month during his conversions. He is always ill, and his conversions make my skin boil with anger. I witness his conversions, and seeing it makes me want to rip myself apart., His screams…" James shuddered as he remembered the painful nights his friend had spent turning himself.

Daphne placed an arm around his shoulder reassuringly. Harry smiled at her actions. James and Daphne had developed an excellent relationship with each other. Daphne loved the boy very much, and James loved Daphne very much. Ever since he came back from Hogwarts, he spent a lot of time with the woman talking and joking with her.

"His parents barely make ends meet, they work extremely hard to put him through school, and they cannot afford the wolfsbane." He continued.

"Whatever others might assume or think of Dumbledore, he allowed Remus to go to Hogwarts like every other wizard. He has set up a safe house solely for his conversions on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Besides me, Sirius, Peter, McGonagall and Poppy, nobody knows anything about Remus's condition. For that, I am grateful to the old man."

"But yes. I am very happy that he died. I would not have been bothered even if he had been shredded."

"Forget about it." Harry broke in and motioned James to follow him to the dining table.

"Come." He pointed to the seat next to him. "He was not a soldier or a freedom fighter. Sitting here and talking about him in glum makes no sense. A rabid dog has been put down, and it is a boon to society. Forget about him, and let us have some breakfast."

The others agreed, sitting down and starting with their breakfast. Harry didn't show it, but he was getting worried. Some game was afloat here, and for some reason, that didn't bode well with him. A known enemy has caused enough havoc in his time with still more to go and an unknown enemy in the mix, especially someone who could have killed Fenrir Greyback and, judging by the dead werewolf's expression, someone who he was very afraid of complicated things severely.

He didn't know where to start. He didn't know where to look. Who was he supposed to suspect? He felt the signs of a headache as he tried to forget the issue for now and focus on his family.

"Remember when we talked about organising a gathering of all our allies this summer?" Dorea questioned Harry. "Well, it is time." She pointed out when he nodded his agreement.

"We will begin the preparations necessary for the event, and you will be organising it this time."

"I still don't get why it is necessary," Harry muttered. "Don't get me started on that once again, Harry." Daphne sighed exasperatedly. "We have had this conversation several times and yet, you ask the same thing repeatedly."

"A new Lord, when he takes the mantle of the Head of the Family, is obligated to host the upper society. It allows them to know the Lord and decide on their support. They would either renew their alliance with the said lord, dissolve any previous alliance, or form a new one. The first two are the most probable, and our family rarely loses an alliance. They fear, respect, and hate us equally, taking any risk. And for that, this event would have to be grandeur."

"You will be fine, Harry," Charlus assured. "All they would try to do is queue up and kiss your arse, hoping to gain political advantages, and you let them kiss your arse, at least until the day is over."

"Charlus!" Dorea admonished as James snickered from next to Harry. "You should learn to curb your tongue amongst us." Charlus remained unfazed by his wife's glare.

"That is not as easy as you think, my dear." Euphemia piped. "Fleamont was the same, and so was my father-in-law." She explained. "It runs in the family."

"Ha! Like your family is any better." Charlus accused Dorea. "Arcturus's language would make married women blush like a virgin." He grinned as his wife shot him another glare amidst laughter.

Harry watched the others laugh and joke around. Never in his life did he assume that something like this was possible. He sits around with his grandparents and parents and talks like an average family. His mother was absent, but that didn't take away his joy.

"Do I have to do this two times?" Harry questioned. "I promise you, I will not be pleased if you ask me to do it twice. I can imagine the headache for the first time when all the families are done with me, and doing it twice would kill me."

"That is the challenge." Charlus began. "The Blacks and Potters never saw eye to eye when it comes to politics. We always ran in different circles. They were historically a family that dwelled in the darker side of the magic and the Potters, neutrals. Our ideas and ideals were never a match, and though there was no rift between the two families, they were not friends either."

"In another place, Charlus and Dorea marrying would have been a laughable idea at best. The Lord of the Potters and a daughter of the Blacks were not a very good idea."

"It would have been impossible, too, if I had cared. And I didn't." Charlus puffed his chest proudly. "Nothing could have deterred me from pursuing Dorea. I would have made an enemy out of Arcturus if necessary." Harry smirked as Dorea blushed slightly.

"And now, with you taking the Lordship of both the families, it is time for a big change in the political arena." Harry agreed. He knew what his decision was, and Harry knew that the Potters and Blacks were okay with this. Except for Walburga, maybe; he was sure her opinions would not matter significantly after Orion grew a spine.

"Very well. We will send the invitations and begin preparations." Harry agreed.

BREAK

Hector had left a happy man. Despite the warnings that he disclosed to Fenrir, tomorrow they were hunting. Fenrir would come around eventually. They are better left alone rather than restricted by commands. Their pack does as they wish to do, so they are left alone.

Everything had been silent for a while. Greyback talked about a revolution and how they would be getting into it. He was very enthusiastic, and the offer presented was too hard to pass up. The pack was in agreement except for Hector. This was not as simple and as easy as Greyback thought it to be.

And today, the newspaper displayed the news that his friend was dead in the middle of Knockturn Alley, his visage twisted into fear as he lay dead.

Just the day before, he had spoken of the same thing; today, it had come true. He had no idea what to do. He looked around the room to the rest of the pack waiting for him to speak.

"This will end today. We won't do things based on how somebody else tells us to. We do things how we want it to be. We will do things as it has always been. We lost Fenrir today. The same Fenrir who has been untouchable for decades." He paused.

"The same Fenrir who recommended following somebody and ended up dead. And who knows how many it would be if we went through with it. I will not have that. And I certainly don't want you to go the same way."

"From now, we go as we were and live as we lived. Nothing with this revolution crap." He received a chorus of yeses from the rest of his pack.

He nodded as he left the room. He never wanted this to happen. He would have been happy if those purebloods had never approached them. Ultimately, he got what he wanted for himself and his pack, to be left alone but at the cost of Fenrir's life.

He cursed softly under his breath. Who? Just who was responsible for this? He hoped he would get a chance at the person responsible for this. He might not fare better than Fenrir, but he would ensure he would not let the person get away lightly. Fenrir might not mean much to the world. He might be a monster to the entire world, but to Hector, he would always be his friend, his partner in crime, and he would not let it slide. He would not let it slide.

TBC—-