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The Storm Never Settles
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Fenrir Greyback. A Real Nightmare
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the-wayward-werewolf-blog · 8 years ago
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riddikuluswolf :
The trip to Hogsmeade was necessary after Remus grew tired of his parents’ constantly questioning him if he wasn’t home in time for supper. A ridiculous reason to be upset, but he couldn’t keep putting up with their needing to know precisely what he was up to. Claiming to be spending the weekend with friends was made easier when Sirius agreed to meet him at the three broomsticks.
He was still an hour early, so wandering proved to be a better way to spend his time than blowing all his money on chocolate that wouldn’t last him through the week. He stood across the street from the candy shop, nose wrinkling while he tried to convince himself not to go in while attempting to find the scrolls app on the stupid phone James gifted him. It didn’t take much, as his train of thought was lost to someone approaching.
Remus looked up in alarm, having not expected to be addressed in the first place, and narrowed his eyes at the boy. “I don’t understand why that’s any of your –” The rest of his quip was lost when his gaze shifted to Fenrir. Remus gulped, nearly flinching when he caught the man’s grin. Curse his having gotten more of his father’s looks than his mum’s. He took another step back and managed to give a small nod. “Yes sir,” The words came out in an almost whisper and Remus dropped his gaze down to his feet. The thought of bolting had come to mind, but he felt cornered. He didn’t expect the kid to be of much help, but he was already outnumbered.  The only thing left to do was clench his jaw and come across as braver than he felt.
“What’s it to you?” He quirked a brow, his right arm hovering over where his wand lay hidden in the pocket of his robe. Remus believed he had every right to be on edge. Fenrir was a ghost from his past that he would have been content with never seeing again.
Watching Remus’s expression change from annoyed confusion to downright terror almost made Fenrir laugh. He watched the boy tense and set his jaw, inch further away from the two werewolves. His grin widened as Remus but up a brave front and tried to put a little bravery behind his question. The boy with Fenrir seemed to be quickly losing interest in the exchange, beginning to wander form Fenrir once more. 
Paying the child no mind Fenrir kept his gaze trained down on Remus, “What is it, to me? Hm. I guess I wouldn’t expect you to remember much of me.” Giving it a thought, why would Remus remember Fenrir’s human form any more than he’d remember the wolf? There was little reason. 
“I’m surprised you’re alive, honestly. The transformations could kill adults. Though I’d have expected your father to, how might he say it, ‘put you out of your  god-forsaken misery’? Last I recall he had very strong feelings on the subject.” There was excitement and malice in Fenrir’s eyes. 
He’d certainly never let Lyall live down what he’d said; his son was living proof of his follies. Though the mere fact his son was still living. Well, that came as a bit of a surprise to Fenrir. He watched Remus’s hand hover over what he assumed to be his wand and shifted his weight onto one foot. 
“Now now, you wouldn’t cause a scene, would you? I was surprised to see you, was all,” Fenrir’s gaze drifted off as he realized the boy with him had wandered off, glancing over the crowd briefly. Probably back in the candy store, “That, and well...There’s no pack bigger than mine anywhere around here. You don’t run with anyone, do you?”
Pausing to give it thought, that sounded rather sad. Being alone every full moon. He remembered the years he spent traveling, alone those nights. It certainly couldn’t be pleasant. 
Resented Reunion
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the-wayward-werewolf-blog · 8 years ago
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Growing Pains || Self-Para
February, 2006
Fenrir didn’t move when he heard the door open, his gaze fixed on the street a few floors below. 
You’re dying without it. 
He watched cars pass by and pedestrians go about their ways, though he wasn’t taking any of it in. He’d lost his sense of time a while ago, but he’d felt as if he’d been sitting there for hours. I want to go to sleep, I just want to sleep. The old mattress he sat on squeaked as a weight climbed on, and the noise registered with Fenrir, but he didn’t move. We’ll die because of it.
A hand touched his arm gently, and quietly a small body climbed into his lap. Without looking away from the window one of his arms wrapped loosely around the child, and he felt the weight of their head leaned against his torso. They sat there in silence for a few moments, just the sound of distant traffic and the both of them breathing slowly. 
Finally tearing his gaze from the window Fenrir looked down to little Hawke who was staring into the outside world too. He carded a hand through the boy’s hair which made the child look up to Fenrir.
“Do you feel better?” the child asked quietly, and Fenrir shivered as a chill ran down his spine. 
We need it.  He wanted to lie, but he couldn’t. 
“No,” he responded softly, staring at the boy. Hawke looked at him with such sad eyes, eye full of pity for a pain he couldn’t even begin to understand. Hawke could understand Fenrir was ‘sick’ to an extent, but the concept of drug withdrawal was too complicated for the five year old boy.
Cradling Hawke in one of his arms he lifted the boy to tug the blanket off his own legs, sitting cross-legged and placing the boy back down. Hawke watched Fenrir’s face as he stared down to the mattress. Everything hurts. His muscles and bones had been aching all day. It was easier to ignore when he just slept, when he didn’t leave his room and wasted the day away while he wasted away. I’m so tired…
“Will you feel better soon? …In time for my birthday, so we can go to the beach?”
The man looked down to the child in his lap, and gods above was the sudden guilt he felt overwhelming. He opened his mouth to respond, but only took in a shuddering breath. It hurts too much. Fenrir didn’t want to cry in front of Hawke. The boy had already seeing him so vulnerable. His arms wrapped around the boy to hug him close, and his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to the top of the boy’s head.
“...I’ll try.”
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the-wayward-werewolf-blog · 8 years ago
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the-wayward-werewolf-blog · 8 years ago
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the-wayward-werewolf-blog · 8 years ago
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Resented Reunion
Hogsmeade Village  June 2017
Fenrir leaned his shoulder into the brickwork of the building as he stared down at his phone and squinted at the little screen as he tried to read the messages popping up against the glare of the sun. Glancing up and about the square in Hogsmeade there didn’t seem to be many other places that offered shade besides ones that were currently occupied, or the currently over-crowded stores. Fenrir was not a fan of the village in the summer time; all the local wizarding children were on break from school, and Hogsmeade was just as if not more crowded than it was during the winter holidays. That, and it was terribly hot outside. 
He hated having to leave home, but the last time he sent someone else shopping for food, they came back with more candies than real groceries. So he’d had to come do it himself. Well, not all by himself; technically he’d brought along one of the older kids to help him carry things back home. Not keeping good track of the teen had led to losing sight of them. Though Fenrir figured he’d know where to find them. 
Responding to the last couple messages sent Fenrir shoved his phone into his pocket and headed directly towards the candy store, weaving through the slow moving groups of people that lingered about the main square of Hogsmeade. Honestly, a couple old buildings, a dinky bar and sub-par candy store wasn’t anything to gawk at. Fenrir didn’t really understand how the place drew so many tourists. Regardless he pushed his way into the too crowded candy shop and looked over the crowded aisles, looking for a familiar head. 
Once he’d corralled the younger werewolf and practically dragged them from the candy store, they could finally go food shopping. The boy was less than pleased, walking briskly towards the grocer with a sour face. Fenrir trailed after the child, not feeling a need to keep pace with him. His eyes scanned over faces as they often did; there wasn’t much else to look at, being so tall. An oddly familiar face made the man look twice, and he slowed his pace until he stopped entirely. 
Was that. Lyall’s boy? Remus? Fenrir stared; it was odd, how strikingly the boy looked like his father at a younger age. The boy he’d bitten well over a decade ago. A warning, more like punishment, for Lyall’s foul words against his kind. It was strange to see that face, so many years later. No longer a terrified little child. Of course. He could be mistaken. It could just be someone who looked like Lyall’s son. Really, what were the chances?
Curiosity was getting the better of him though. Fenrir began to approach the man, pushing his way through the groups of people to make his way towards Remus. By the time Fenrir had made his way to Remus, the child that had been with him had found his way back to Fenrir. Looking just as sulky, now mad that he’d not only been dragged from the candy store, but that this whole grocery ordeal was being stalled. 
The child scowled up at Fenrir when approaching, then looked at Remus with a squint. “Who’re you?” The child asked Remus, glancing between the two. Fenrir gave the boy a light shove on the shoulder for his blunt question before asking Remus himself with an almost mocking grin, “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? You’re Lyall’s son, right? You must be just as stubborn as he is, still alive and kickin’.” 
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