A Job Well Done

15.2K 820 1.2K
                                    


A Job Well Done



Long black coaks swished at their ankles as two men walked across the field toward the line of trees they had just watched James Potter and his dog go running into. One of them laughed deeply, a low, growling sound in his throat, his pointed teeth bared as he prowled forward, nearly silent. Beside him, the taller man had a swifter gait, and his hood pushed back, his long, pale white hair flowing over his shoulders. They reached the trees and Abraxas Malfoy looked around, his dark eyes taking in the spilled ink bottle on the ground by the log that James Potter had been sitting on when they'd first apparated into the field.

"I smell them," Fenrir Greyback murmured, breathing deeply. He let out a low breath, like a man smelling a delicious meal cooking. "Mmm... yes, the Potter boy and his little dog. They're this way." Fenrir walked into the woods, his prowling walk speeding up. Malfoy trailed behind, slower now as they made their way through the trees. "Over here." Fenrir ducked around an especially wide tree, sniffing the air and exhaling loudly through his mouth. "Mmm.. yes... tasty little morsels..." Fenrir murmured.

Abraxas looked about at him, his voice stern, "Remember, Greyback, we're not to eat what we find."

Fenrir looked back over his shoulder at Malfoy, a sneer on his lip, "Yes I know, I know. I'm aware I'm not to bite the Potter boy, but... well, his dog smells pretty damn good, too."

"Do what you want with the dog."

They stepped into a clearing, bordered by some brush and Fenrir paused in his walking. Malfoy stopped, too, waiting for the werewolf to smell the air. "So close I can nearly taste the blood," Fenrir hissed, smacking his lips together slowly. He licked his lips and teeth, eyes half closed. He turned his head, looking around, and then stared quite intently at a brush beneath a tree just steps away. A smile slowly moved across his face, his lips curling up even further, his teeth fully bared. "Hello little one," he breathed, stepping forward slowly, menacingly toward the brush, "Helloooo!" He reached out a hand into the brush, about to grab hold of the head of hair he knew was there --

With a growl that came from deep inside his chest, Sirius leaped up from the brush, his own fangs bared, and latched onto Fenrir's forearm with ferocity. He clamped his jaw down as hard as he could and there was a crack of bone and his mouth flooded with the coppery flavor of blood, still he did not release.

Fenrir Greyback let out an almighty growl of his own and leaped back, the big black dog holding tight to his arm as he shook it, trying to free himself.

Abraxas had been so stunned by the sudden attack that he'd taken a moment to get his wits about him again and that moment cost him dearly. "Stupefy!" James shouted, aiming his wand as he jumped up from the brush quickly. The red sparks hit Malfoy, sending him to the ground. "Stupefy!" He aimed for the werewolf this time, who was now kicking at the black dog in a desperate effort to alleviate the clamp on his arm. The sparks missed Fenrir Greyback, however, and hit Sirius and his jaw released and he fell to the ground. "Bloody hell," muttered James, and he quickly ducked behind a tree as Fenrir, laughing, drew his wand and aimed for him.

"Good shot, kid. You've stunned your own dog," Fenrir laughed, and waved his wand with a silent spell and the sparks exploded off the tree, narrowly missing James's shoulder. Fenrir moved toward the tree, "Look, I ain't here to kill ya, kid, even though you smell like you'd make ol' Fenrir a great snack... the Dark Lord doesn't want you dead. So why don't you come along with me and we'll have a jolly good time visitin' his Lordship?"

James edged around the tree as he heard Fenrir coming about it. Fenrir's breath was so hot and heavy that James could smell it as he moved closer, foul and thick. The werewolf smelled coppery, like blood. It was not lost on him, either, that this was the wolf that had bitten Remus. The name echoed about in his mind in Remus's voice and his throat was knotted up with the knowledge that a similar fate to that of his friend's could be upon him.

The Marauders: Year One | #Wattys2016Where stories live. Discover now