Sometimes Bad is Good

Chapter Twenty-Three

In the Forbidden Forest, revelations of a darker kind were being made as well.

The wind whistled wildly through the treetops and with it heralded the entrance into a small clearing through a tightly clutched grouping of trees. An entrance, in which one beastly man rocketed through, expertly dodging the branches that seemed to snap down at him with intent to maim.

As the figure rounded the proud and tall trees, it let loose an ear shattering roar that alerted those in the clearing of his appearance. "WHERE IS HE?!" roared Fenrir Greyback, tearing furiously through the underbrush of the tight clearing with single minded determination, appearing for all intents and purposes set on destroying everything in his path.

His glowing blue eyes screamed bloody murder as they scanned the cowering mass of people, all of which had bowed their heads while they whimpered and submitted their fear at his ferocious mood. Used to it as they were.

The infected men and women were no strangers to Fenrir's terrible temper, and most of the women in the group were still limping from the last time they'd been subject to his 'affections'. Many still bore deep gouging teeth marks in the meat of their arms, legs and stomachs, but there was hardly anything they were able to do about it but to let it happen and hopefully be able to heal in peace while he hurt the others.

It was only a matter of time before they were summoned to attack Potter anyway, and they all knew the results of that. It was why so many of them threw themselves so whole-heartedly at those missions.

It was the only way to escape Fenrir Greyback's mad Pack.

Quietly, a scantily clad and dirt smudged woman shuffled timidly forward from her clutch of packmates, head lowered and neck bared in submission. She didn't look at her cowering peers, for she knew that they wouldn't do a thing to stop Fenrir if he decided that her head didn't belong on her shoulders.

"Where is whom, Alpha?" she asked tentatively, shoulders held high around her ears in wait for the inevitable response.

Fenrir snapped his teeth together, his hulking figure easily towering over all present. His shadow in the moonlight seemed to grow forbiddingly.

"The coward we dragged in with the first lot. Where is Eric?!" Fenrir snarled, stomping into the whimpering mass of bitten Werewolves with a merciless force, shoving the unlucky men and women aside when they were unable to get away quick enough.

Suddenly, he halted before a fallen woman and tilted his head high, his crooked nose viciously huffing in the scented air for the man he was searching for. He let out such a threatening growl that almost instantaneously, a wave of necks were bared before him and heads were bowed closer to the ground.

"His scent is weak. He's been gone from our territory too long. Where's he gone skulking off to? I've heard from our little mole in Hogwarts that he was there. Surely he isn't stupid enough to ignore a direct order, you all know what happens when you do that."

An almost smile drew his lips up at the corners in a terrifying sight; bloodthirsty fangs exposing themselves in their limited light.

The woman brave enough to speak in the face of Fenrir's rage ducked her head down even further, drawing his revolting gaze. It was obvious to Fenrir by the way she moved that what she was going to say was not going to be good news.

"I - I think he went with the others, Alpha," she said tremulously, knees almost caving in with fear when she felt those feral orbs focus on her. "He - he wanted to die. He didn't want to be a Werewolf anymore, Alpha. He threw himself before Potter and was captured - taken to the castle in a sack."

"So the mole was correct and Eric is now dead. The fool! He was not ordered to attack!" Fenrir snarled, dirty, whiskery face turning once more thunderous and stormy with rage. "He was to remain in the Pack grounds until the Portkey to Bellatrix arrived. He's ruined everything we've worked for!"