Date: 2/3 April 2005
Characters: Fenrir Greyback, Ulysses Longfellow (NPC), NPCs
Location: A small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade
Private/Public: Private
Rating: R
Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, death, dominance fighting
Summary: Fenrir and two of his pack entertain themselves on the night of the full moon.
Completion: Complete


Fenrir stood in front of the window of the rickety old shack , staring at the small cottage in the distance. He could see the lights gleaming even from this far away and even the occasional shadow as a person walked between the light and the window. He knew who was in there; a Half-blood wizard, his Muggleborn wife and their ten year old son. He growled, a low deep sound in the back of his throat, and licked the saliva from his lips. Tonight he would have all three of them.

He whirled around then glared at his two companions. Ulysses was staring at the woman huddled in the corner. Fenrir's glare was quickly joined by a snarl and he bounded over towards Ulysses. He snapped at the werewolf and bowled him over, buffeting him with his body and fists until Ulysses cowered in front of him, arms covering his head.

"Don't... don't," he whimpered.

Fenrir stepped back, satisfied with his dominance. He looked over at the woman. Melanie hadn't moved or even acknowledged the two men though it was clear she knew they were there. Fenrir prowled over to her, leaning down to nuzzle her cheek. She whimpered and moved just enough to indicate her acceptance of him. Fenrir made a pleased noise. She was his. Had been since the day he claimed her on her thirteenth birthday, forcing her to kill her parents and showing her that the wolf inside was to be welcomed, not feared. She was his to do with as he pleased, to give to whomever he pleased. She had learnt her place quickly.

Fenrir turned and smiled cruelly at Ulysses, who was once again staring at Melanie. His expression clearly said, 'She will never be yours.' Ulysses stared at him for a moment, as though trying to gain the courage to challenge his pack leader then his gaze dropped submissively and he shifted slightly, turning away minutely. Fenrir sneered maliciously and gave Melanie one last nudge before standing and returning to the window.

The sun was just setting as he got there and as the moon began to rise he felt the familiar and welcome pull that signalled the onset of the change. He swiftly shed his clothes and moved to the middle of the room, waiting for the transformation he craved.

"The door," he snarled at Ulysses then he grinned, revealing his sharp, pointed teeth, as the pain of the first convulsions hit him.

He saw Ulysses stagger over to the door and open it before falling and shuddering into his own change, his cries of agony making Fenrir sneer. The pain was to be embraced, welcomed. It led to them becoming something greater, more powerful, better than mere humans. Dimly, in the distance, he could hear the screams and shouts of those who were too cowardly to embrace what they were, those who acted as though they had some kind of affliction, some kind of disease. If he didn't have a greater purpose for this evening he would find them and show them what they should be, how they weakened themselves by fearing the change, how they turned themselves into mere animals by not accepting what they were. He had accepted his wolf and that was why he retained his intelligence when he changed.

As the transformation began in earnest, Fenrir laughed and screamed, a wild, insane sound that was soon replaced by the howl of the wolf. He bayed joyously at the full moon then rose to his feet and shook himself. He looked over at the other two, coming to their feet, shuddering and whimpering. He growled at them then leapt out of the door, racing down towards the cottage, the other two wolves right behind him.

He didn't stop when he got to the door, smashing through it and charging into the house. He could smell the sudden scent of those within, sharp and fearful, and he launched himself in that direction. A spell came flying at him as he charged into the living room and he swerved to avoid it. A second later, he was leaping at the man with the wand in his hand as the woman and the young boy screamed and clutched at each other. Fear filled the air and Fenrir revelled in the scent.

His jaws closed on the man's wrist and he tightened them, crushing the bones within then ripping the hand off. Blood filled his mouth, hot and tasting of iron, as the man screamed hoarsely. He flung the hand and the wand it still held across the room then leapt towards the woman. He shouldered the boy out of her arms and closed his jaws around her shoulder, crunching down on the bones, blood blooming across his tongue again.

Once he was sure neither the man nor the woman was about to escape, he stepped back and howled triumphantly. He looked over at the boy who was watching him with wide, terrified eyes. Fenrir bared his teeth at him, licking his bloodied chops. The boy shuddered and curled in on himself, burying his face in his arms. Fenrir growled menacingly and the boy's head shot up. Fenrir paced over to where his parents were lying, still screaming and moaning and stared at the boy then at his parents. When the boy tried to lower his head, Fenrir growled again. The boy seemed to understand then and he whimpered and stared at his parents, tears starting to run down his cheeks.

Now Fenrir turned to his companions. He growled at Ulysses and jerked his head towards the boy. Ulysses whined, pawing at the carpet in complaint. Fenrir lowered his head, his hackles rising and growled again, a low, deep, menacing sound coming from the depths of his chest. Ulysses whined again then seemed to drag some courage up from somewhere and growled in return. Fenrir snarled and leapt at Ulysses. He gave no quarter and in seconds had the other werewolf flat on his back. He closed his jaws around Ulysses' throat and started to tighten his grip. Ulysses whined and struggled but when Fenrir's teeth broke the skin, he went limp and shuddered, submitting completely to his pack leader. Fenrir stayed where he was for a moment then let go, allowing Ulysses to get to his feet. He jerked his head in the direction of the boy again and this time Ulysses obeyed, his tail tucked between his legs, his belly almost brushing the ground as he crept away. He worked his way behind the boy to ensure he watched.

Fenrir turned back to the parents and found Melanie guarding them. He prowled over and licked her cheek approvingly then nudged her in the direction of the mother. She hesitated for a moment, staring at Fenrir in surprise. Fenrir licked her cheek again and whuffed at her then nudged her towards the woman again. She didn't hesitate this time and Fenrir turned back to the man.

He leaned down slowly, one eye on the man's face and licked the bleeding stump, giving a pleased shudder at both the taste of blood and the sound of the man's screams. Behind him he could hear the screams of the woman and he revelled in the sound and the heady scent of fear and terror. He lunged forward and bit down on the man's arm, crunching down and hearing the sound of breaking bones and garnering new screams. He let go of the arm and licked his chops. As he did the man tried to crawl away, clutching his shattered arm to his chest. Fenrir abruptly lunged at him, biting down on his shoulder and shattering it as he had done with the woman. The man screamed and Fenrir let go, his teeth bared in a lupine smile. He circled around for a moment then tore into the man's stomach, his howls joining the sound of screams.


When the sun rose on the small cottage, it revealed a scene of carnage. Blood and gore were splattered all throughout the living room and right in the middle lay three bodies. Two, a man and a woman, were still and lifeless, all but torn to pieces, only their faces left intact. The third, a young boy almost ready for Hogwarts, was almost untouched, the barest rise and fall of his chest indicating he was still alive. His only wounds were a deep bite mark on his shoulder and another on his hip, both still bleeding sluggishly, and tear tracks wound uneven paths through the splattered blood on his face.