She was not what he had expected. Well, he had not known what to expect - but it was certainly not this. She was small bodied, but had the bearing of someone much taller. Her sharp angular features were made more severe by her shaved head and huge fog grey eyes which focussed on him with a predator’s glint. She had a wide mouth, and her lip had been split at some point, and healed badly. She had scars too; as many as he did, but almost invisible under a complex lacework of small circular tattoos, spiralling across her weatherbeaten skin in untraceable sequences.
“Remus Lupin,” she said, in a low, gravelly voice. She had a horrible, menacing smile. She showed all of her teeth - which were in bad condition, discoloured and uneven. “I’ve been waiting for you, my dear.”
He pulled out his wand at once, adopting a duelling stance.
“Drop that!” She snarled, raising a hand - her nails were long, yellow and clawed, filthy with dirt.
His wand clattered to the ground, and he gasped. Remus was frozen to the spot. She stood only meters away, and his wand was within reach, but he couldn’t move a muscle. She laughed, her breath stark and white in the winter air, “I saw you here on Christmas Eve,” she said. She pointed to the dark alley, “I saw you there, with the human. I followed you both.”
“What do you want?” He asked, steadily, staring her down. She was repulsive, unclean - her cloak was heavy matted animal fur, crawling with lice and other vermin. She stank of the forest, and rot, and blood. Despite this, something drew him in - something familiar, safe and welcoming. Pack, the wolf told him, a low growl from somewhere inside. Pack.
“We want you, brother.” She said, stepping forward.
She lowered her hand, and he felt a sort of un-clicking in his muscles, and stepped back, automatically.
“We?” He asked, finding courage now that he could move again. He snatched up his wand and she allowed it.
“We. Us.” She said, stepping forward again. She walked with one foot in front of the other, like an animal. Her feet were bare on the cobbles, black with filth.
“Who’s ‘us’?” He asked, glancing back, quickly. He was almost at the door. If he backed away far enough, he’d be visible from inside the pub windows.
“Your family, Remus Lupin.”
“Oh, right?” He asked, still distracted by his progress towards the pub. He had to get closer to people. “Well,” he tried smiling, “If we’re family, I’d better buy you a drink…”
“You reek of human terror, Remus Lupin.” She said, tilting her head to one side.
“Sorry,” he said, with a shrug. “Do you want a drink, or not?”
“If it pleases you.”
“Great…” he pushed open the door with some relief, and stepped into the grimy pub. He had never really felt ‘safe’ in The Hog’s Head, but he had never been quite so glad to be surrounded by other wizards; dark or not. There were maybe five or six of them, including the old white-bearded barman. A few patrons glanced up from under their hoods as the two werewolves entered - but if they had any clue about the situation, they made no sign of it.
She sat at a table, not taking her eyes off Remus for a moment. He didn’t order drinks, just sat opposite her. He placed both hands on the table, feeling that this was the safest option; hoping that she would see he was not planning to attack.
“So. You know my name. What’s yours?” He didn’t know where this cavalier attitude had come from - whether it was a momentary madness or just the outcome of his own stupidity, but it was keeping him safe for now.
