Harry Potter Fictober

Full Moon

The fool didn't know the wrath he had incurred. Soon though. Soon he would. Soon he would see that he, a pudgy and weak man, was no match for the very thing he discriminated against.

It wasn't his fault that he was like this. No, he hadn't asked for this to happen. Neither had his parents. They just didn't know how to handle it, they didn't know how to handle him. That was the bad thing about hooty-snooty wizarding folk. They viewed anything different as "Wrong" instead of handling the situation at hand. Shunned those who were different. Hell, he wasn't even human in their eyes.

He was a being. An almost human creature. Someone with a little more intelligence than a beast that could play the game and live by their laws. And if he didn't, they had no issues killing him. He wasn't human after all. It would be no more than putting down a rabid dog. He made to rectify that. Who got to say he was a monster because of something beyond his control?

Definitely not this man. And not the others. He would take over one day and then people would know. People would understand. They all would. This wasn't a choice. This was a life style. One forced upon him and he spread that lesson far and wide and would continue to do so.

Tonight he'd add another to his army. He would make things better by force. Words didn't work, he'd seen that when his parents left him, they left him and never came back. So he'd learn to survive. The others were learning how to survive too and so would this one.

The younger they are when they become infected, the easier it is to teach them, the easier it is for them to learn. They learned to think better as wolves without the assistance of a potion. Fenrir could stop his attacks before killing a victim now. He had gotten quite good at it. He had tried infecting adults. He had at first and it never went well because they killed more times than they didn't. One day, while he thought about how to stop a majority of the wolves killing their victim rather than add numbers to the army, he realized that the reason he took to the cycles was because he'd dealt with them his whole life. His whole life he had to learn to handle this. Learn how to deal with the transformations alone. How to deal with the pain of each morning after, the worsts days leaving him huddled in a ball on the floor where he woke all day, until the cold bothered him enough to throw on his one pair of pants and one of three shirts.

No pity for a starving boy, no handouts, nothing for the boy with the scars that were obviously from a beast. He lived from as an outcast, stealing what he needed to live and nothing more. Little did they know that the rift between beast and man grew closer and closer until even he could no longer tell. Until the little boy thirsted for blood as much as the beast that protected him. Until he wanted nothing more than to see the world run by people just like him. People who were liberated every full moon.

Fenrir gagged as the first spam hit his body. The transformation periods hurt, but that was to be expected. His very bones stretched and twisted until the could handle the beast. His insides shifted some too, he could feel it and that was what made him vomit during the transformations. They were hard, but worth it in the end. What fails to kill you, after all, makes you stronger.

His eyes turned once more towards the window with the light still on. The curtain was split enough that Fenrir could see the boy in his mom's arms, laughing as she blew raspberries on his stomach, his father standing and looking adoringly at them both.

How much would he adore the kid after tonight? How much would his stance change on Lycanthropy after tonight? He would either reject the child or learn. Either was a win-win for Fenrir. He either got a new pack mate or the laws would change by the very one who enforced them.

Fenrir smiled as he could feel the last of his transformation coming on. The moon was hidden behind the clouds, but that wouldn't stop the transformation. He stalked towards the house and slipped into the window. With a gruesome crack and a fearsome howl, Fenrir turned and pounced.

Tonight was the night, a full moon, the night the youngest member of the Lupin household would forever be changed.
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A/N: So, this chapter is early. Also, I am honest to god just writing these and sending them out with little to no revision. I feel like it's better for me for this challenge to just go with it, so this chapter in particular will be very choppy.

I've always wondered about Fenrir Greyback and his thrive and the way he dealt with his Lycanthropy. Don't get me wrong: Fenrir is a bad guy, but Lycanthropy is NOT a choice. It's a magical illness and I wanted to touch base on that. I figured most people would talk about Remus and the Marauders ANYWAYS.

It was a little fun trying to get into the villain's head though. See the world through his eyes and hopefully I've conveyed it right. Again, this is MY rendition of it and I'm not making Fenrir a good guy. He's still a baddy.