Newt Scamander and the Werewolf Pup

Greyback's Treat

Greyback's Treat

The Great North Woods were silent in the night, the aurora flickering high above on the horizon. The temperature hovered just above freezing and something dark and terrible loomed among the trunks of the trees. Across the lake, lights from the small village reflected in the still water, the streets emptying quickly because after a certain time of night, dark things took over the village and none of the people wanted to be caught outside when he came.

The man was torn, his face and arms covered in scars, his anger reflecting off every one of the gashes in his skin. He had sharp, pointed teeth and a wicked habit of licking them, as though hungry or as though polishing them -- those pointed teeth, after all, were Fenrir Greyback's most prized possession.

Shutters slammed and doors clicked shut and people scurried to hiding places, trembling in terror as his shadow passed them, his eyes burning.

Tonight, though, he had a very specific mission.

Fenrir Greyback withdrew his wand and blasted the gate off a small house whose windows were all completely dark, shutters closed in an attempt to hide... as though if the house was dark, Fenrir Greyback might pass them by... might forget what he was coming to do.

"Incendio," he hissed, aiming his wand for the roof. A ball of fire flew through the air and struck the thatched roof, bursting, and the fire began to consume the roof in a wild burst of heat and light. Fenrir walked forward, "Reducto," he said, and a beam of sparks flew forward, shattering the front door of the house just as Fenrir reached it, the wood reduced to nothing but splinters. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," sing-songed Fenrir lowly, his voice trembling with amusement and excitement.

Upstairs, in a closet, trembling, sat a woman, pressed to the corner of the walls, her arms around a small boy, whose arms clung to his mummy, his eyes closed as he shook. They both flinched at the sound of the door exploding, and he whimpered into her neck. Her tears lined her face, pouring over her jaw and into his hair. "Shh," she breathed, "Shh." She ran her fingers over his spine soothingly... though it would be impossible to calm him as her own veins were laced with the coldness of pure terror.

Fenrir Greyback moved through the house, waving his wand, destroying things as he went. The roof was consuming quickly in the flames, the smoke beginning to wend its way into the house, the smell of burning wood and ashes began to slowly infuse the air. Glass shattered, bursting around the floor with a musical sound. Family photos were slashed from the mantel and from the walls... china cups and plates popping from the cabinet... knick-knacks exploding... splinters of wood from tables, chairs, bookshelves, stair bannisters, and doors flew about in the air, mixed with bits of paper from books and papers, like a sinister confetti, mingling with the ash and smoke that was getting thicker and thicker...

Upstairs, the air was getting hotter from the fire as it began to consume the house, racing through the walls in the insulation and the wood and in that little closet, the woman reached up and touched the doorknob and could feel the heat beneath her palm. Searing. Her heart ached. They were going to die no matter what she did - if she stayed they would burn alive, if she ran then Fenrir Greyback would kill them both. She began to sob in earnest.

"Mummy ok?" pleaded the boy. "Mummy ok?"

"Shh," she whispered, but her voice broke as he did it and it betrayed her -- mummy was not ok.

Fenrir Greyback was on the stairs, each step creaking beneath his weight, grinning and licking his teeth...

Part of the roof roared as it caved in the far end of the house and the noise it made was horribly loud, the beams crashing into the floor. The surprise of the sound terrified the little boy, clinging to his mummy in the dark, and he let out a loud shriek of fear.