Life in an Alien Land 2: The Werewolf Chronicles

Thanks to all of you that stuck with the story, and special thanks to all who reviewed. This is the final chapter of this story. I am currently working on a third that will tell Lucius and Tonks' story as well as Ron's.

All hail Jill! She who patiently red-moused this story, even though I messed her up a bit during the process.

Chapter 22:

Endings

I awoke in the square the next day, the early morning light casting blues, lavenders and greys over the site of the battle. Blood and gore were spattered on my body, black on shimmering white, in the wan light of early morning. Severus, no doubt, would have some fantastic word to describe the gore, but I just saw the waste of life amidst the filth. Call me stupid, but I couldn't help wonder if all this was worth it. I mean, each side saw the other as wrong. The old purebloods had a point about the Muggleborns entering our society and changing things without thought to what worked for at least a millennium before them. And, conversely, the Muggleborns, purebloods, and us blood traitors knew that we had to adapt to make great strides to keep our place in the new, increasingly technological world of the Muggles. I had long thought that both of our worlds had a great deal to teach each other. Muggles could use our magic to power their electrical nabobs and the like without destroying the planet, and we could learn a great deal about their innovative, non-magical technology from them. From what Hermione had showed me the time I visited her family's home in London, they were ages ahead of us with communication, mass transportation, and entertainment, while we were ages ahead of them in respect for the planet that housed us all. Perhaps, when all this was over, we might all learn from the folly of Tom Riddle's colossal pride.

It was enough to make my head swim, thinking about all that, especially when I didn't even know the outcome of last evening's work. I rose shakily, my nude body still hot and achy from the transformation. Frost limned the features of the dead, eating into their greying eyes. I tottered past a few corpses that I had known who had given their lives in the fight against Greyback's forces. I would mourn for them later. Those whom I passed that had fought against us were only recognisable as human by their shape. We women in battle were always more bloodthirsty; as the vanquished, our lot was so much harder.

My foot squelched in a pool of black slime and I gave a skipping jump as I dodged a vaguely man-shaped corpse with a shock of blond hair. I had stepped into his trailing viscera. Visions of a young white wolf wreaking her revenge on the figure of the yellow wolf he had been floated through my mind. It was as if I had not truly been there, even though, if asked, I could give you the exact flavour of his blood as it had spurted over my tongue.

Other Pack members started to rise, their bodies equally gore stained, their expressions grim. We gathered what weapons we could from around the square. If Fred had not been triumphant, we would not go to our deaths without a fight. We approached the doors to the building that had once been the township's governmental seat, and waited for them to open.

It did not take long for Fred to throw the doors wide, his grin more a grimace as his movement opened a wound that neatly transected his torso. It had been closed magically, but we all knew that it would still seep blood for days. That was the nature of magical wounds. "Come in!" he urged us. "We have a matter of some importance to address."

He waited while we filed past him, his skin glistening white and pale in the strengthening light. When I went past him, he stopped me. "Snape's in a bad way, Ginny. He had to do some things last night. Things that he could live with as a wolf, but not a human."

I remembered the yellow-haired werewolf in the square, and nodded. "Yeah. I'll take care of him."

Fred waited for the remainder of the Pack to join us. Our numbers had swelled overnight, encompassing both the Muggles and the wizarding folk who had been wronged by Greyback's thugs. A few stragglers brought the still-living members of Greyback's forces with them, and all the prisoners were bound until the Pack could decide on their cases. There were few of his lieutenants left, maybe eight. The rest, I assumed, had been dispatched the night before. Thankfully, for Malfoy's ploy at the Manor, there were no Death Eaters in the werewolf ranks. Even Greyback had not been one.

I went into the room that I had first seen Severus in, the site of so many of his humiliating rapes and tortures. It smelled strongly of urine, blood and faeces, underlain by the stench of burnt flesh. I scanned the crowd and saw Severus alone on the dais erected by Greyback, his expression blank and closed. He once again wore the mask of the traitorous Headmaster. I scanned his still nude form for any injuries, and could only see one small nick on his thigh, probably inflicted during the battle. I cried out, "Severus!"

And then we were together, flesh on flesh, as we checked each other over with questing hands and silent tears. We weren't the only ones in the room so occupied. Many were glad that their mates and families had survived that night. The Muggle doctor who had treated me during my Turning was administering first aid to several casualties, his young son by his side. The boy stared blankly about him and I noticed, with a twisting lurch of my stomach, dried blood on the child's bottom. The doctor's son could not have been more than six or seven. My attention flicked to the dead, mostly children, who had been laid to the side of the room, next to the triage area. I wished I had the ability to feel numb, but I didn't.

"Greyback," I finally asked, my head held against Severus' chest. The steady sound of his heart soothed me. "Is he dead?"

"No. Frederick thought it best to carry out his sentence in a more public manner," his voice rumbled against my ear. "Where are your clothes?"

I giggled, "Where are yours, or anybody's for that matter?"

Severus pulled away. "I had hoped... Would it have been too much to ask that you stay away from the fighting, at least? If something had happened..."

I drew him closer to me, liking the feel of my flesh against his, the burning quality of his embrace heating me as no amount of clothing or warming charms could. "You already knew I wouldn't. Fred said you had some problems last night."

I felt his lips brushing my hair, his shaking hand burrowing into it at the nape. "Later, when we have more time..."

The outside doors opened again, this time bringing a contingent of what had been drudges bearing food and clothing for all of us who were without. Tilda, the kitchen overseer stopped before us. She thrust a bundle of wash-roughened clothing at Severus and handed me a steaming pot of tea with a sniff. "Yer Mum, how is she? When that Malfoy came and got her, she was pretty flustered, couldn't speak at all."

Tilda said the last bit with a strange leer in Snape's direction. I said, as evenly as I could, "Mr. Malfoy didn't want a werewolf endangering his household. He sent me back here. I'm sure..."

"Ye'll be returning when this is all over," Tilda supplied. "Of course, if those things can pass as you and your Mum for whatever he's up to, you'll be lucky. I don't know what he has planned, but I wish him well. I lost my son to that monster he serves last war. If anyone can get rid of him, that one can. He's a canny bastard, is Malfoy."

Severus, who had just donned his trousers, jerked upward, the motion sharp enough to halt Tilda's speech. He gave her a sharp look and the overseer laughed. "Don't worry, none, Snape. Those of us that know won't tell, and those of us that don't... well, they can be dealt with. 'Sides, do you honestly think He will listen to a werewolf?"

I put the teapot aside as Severus handed me a tunic and trousers. Tilda's attention was drawn to the doctor and his son. "I hope... I don't suppose you could do anything about the boy there? A potion maybe? The doctor, he's been good to all of us, even if he is a Muggle. Don't want to see him suffer for it."

Severus hummed noncommittally and I turned away. I knew from Severus' experience that the only cure for the boy would be a complete Turning. I remembered Borowiec telling me about Greyback's preferred methods for Turning children and thought of Remus Lupin. I shivered despite the transformational heat I felt coursing over my body. Severus noticed, but said nothing.

Fred, having been treated for his injuries and fed, clapped his hands for attention. the hubbub of chatter and breakfast noise subsided after a few moments. He raised his hands, authority in the gesture. I was impressed. My brother had never been a leader, preferring to sit back and work behind the scenes. It was the only way pranksters such as he and George could effectively pull off some of their stunts.

Once he had our attention, he waved his wand theatrically and a cage appeared behind him, where Greyback's throne-like chair had stood before. The older werewolf was horribly battered. Bruises and dark spots of blood dotted his naked body and he was missing large patches of hair on his head. He glared at all of us, his yellow-eyed gaze cold and sneering. Some of the weaker of the Pack stepped back before catching themselves, others jeered and hissed. Greyback flung himself at the bars of the cage ineffectually, one arm held tightly against his body, his hand cupping his side.

Fred incanted a binding curse, and magical bonds of black leather snaked out of his wand, tying the captive. Greyback growled through his tightly clenched jaw, "When I get out of this, you're dead, boy."

"Shut your gob, you twat." Fred charmed a gag over Greyback's mouth. Fred vanished the cage as he turned to the crowd, an element of showmanship in his stance. He said, "You have all been asked to assemble to dispense justice to the monster, Fenrir Greyback. You all know his crimes, have all suffered from his depravity. His crimes speak to his sentence. As Pack leader, I invoke the right of blood over this creature. I will carry out the sentence before you so that there is no doubt his crimes against us all have been paid for in his own blood."

Fred leaned forward, his wand readied as he said, "For the crimes of rape and torture of Severus Snape, the rape of Ronald Weasley, Molly Weasley, the assisted rape of Ginevra Weasley, the children you have raped over the years in your sick quest to populate your Pack, you are sentenced to gelding."

Fred lifted his wand, his features hardening, becoming colder, less my brother than an avenging angel. He held his stance as Greyback began fighting against the bonds, the Alpha's screams muffled behind the gag. I watched in some satisfaction as Greyback's eyes rolled in his head, the yellowish-whites exposed in his distress. Fred whispered a spell, and Greyback's severed penis fell to the floor with a wet plop. The former Alpha screamed in agony, his jaws almost hyperextending. Jeers and hisses rose from the crowd, becoming an ugly blot of noise that rose in pitch as the pulse of blood from the amputation spurted out over them.

Fred watch Greyback's excruciation with feigned disinterest. His hand had tightened on his wand, the knuckles turning parchment white. It was the one telling gesture to his mental state. I glanced at Severus to see what he thought about the proceedings. He drew me to him, his arm looping around my waist as I shivered from the shock of Fred's actions. Severus said, his volume pitched low enough for the words to be private, "He didn't want to handle the situation this way, Ginevra, but we both thought it would serve his purposes better. He must gain immediate control of the Pack if he is to succeed."

Greyback's body was slicked with sweat and blood and his moans were coming in painful rasps. Fred spelled the bleeding to stop and said, "Fenrir Greyback, for your crimes against humanity, both wizarding and Muggle, for the illegal actions against Cambridge, London, and all points between, for your defilement of the position of Pack leader, and for the torture and death of one Dusun Borowiec, you are sentenced to death. Do you have any last words?"

Fred spelled the gag out of the werewolf's mouth. Greyback spat, the sound weak and pitiful in the stillness that had followed Fred's speech. He dragged his head up, but it flopped to the side, his eyes were half-lidded, and his skin was grey. Greyback answered, "Fuck you, Weasley. They'll never follow a puling cunt like you."

Fred leaned into the werewolf, moving his wand in a complex pattern as he spoke. Greyback's eyes widened and he screamed, a high-pitched wail that echoed off the walls of the building. He writhed under Fred's gaze and his mouth foamed, the bubbles frothy pink. Fred stepped back and incanted aloud, "Sectumsempra!"

At first there was no noticeable effect other than a thin, red line on the werewolf's neck. Soon a gurgling noise issued from Greyback and the cut gushed blood, deepening as the spell worked. Greyback struggled weakly against his bonds until his head lolled to the side and then fell off with a heavy, wet thud. Fred turned his back to the one time leader and said, "Bring his faithful before me."

Justice was meted out in much the same way for each of the remaining lieutenants. The rich, almost unpleasant smell of blood filled the room as each man met their fate. Once done, Fred issued the order to bring in the dead.

Severus and I worked on separate details. He spent his time assisting the doctor and the mediwitch who had been dealing with minor injuries in a triage set up in the Inn. I worked on gathering the names of the dead with the aid of a grim-faced woman.

We spent the day in labour and by night, those of us who were wizards changed again. The first day of the waning, gibbous moon always affected those with magic the same way as a full moon did, only with less intensity. I have never figured out why, I think it has something to do with the dying of the phase. We would return to normal only as the moon's face shrank.

The next day we spent in much the same industry, until all the bodies were stacked like cord-word in the hall. We had lost many in our fight against Greyback, and I suspected we would lose more.

Severus and I found time to eat together. We ate in his old room, on the pallet where it all began all those months ago. I looked on the place with near nostalgia as Severus brought out a hunk of dry cheese, a bottle of wine, and some unleavened bread that he had nicked from the kitchens earlier. We both stank of death and blood. He told me of the little girl he had killed, and I told him of my battle with the brown wolf that had raped me. Both of us fell silent after the recounting of our tales.

I felt as if I had ragged holes in my soul from that night, and I could tell from his bleak expression that he felt the same. He held the bottle of wine by the neck, the liquid half-gone. I removed it from his grasp and straddled him. "We both did what we had to, Severus."

He made a scoffing sound and looked away from me. I lifted his face with my finger under his chin. "Don't do that."

"What, exactly, are you commanding me not to do, Ginevra?" His tone was harsh and a little of his north country upbringing had crept into it. "Am I to rejoice that once again my life has devolved into a continuous state of perpetual exigency? I had hoped..."

He bit off the words and attempted to push me off his lap. I held onto him stubbornly, asking, "You had hoped what?"

He trembled under my hands as I soothed him. I knew what he had hoped. It was what we all dreamt of in the darkest, quietest time of night. It was something none of us would have until the Dark Despot was gone, and perhaps not even then. We needed peace and time to heal. I couldn't give him that, but thought I could give him a way to forget for a time. I brought my lips to his and feasted on them until his parted under mine. His own hands travelled up my back, bunching the filthy fabric of my tunic, smoothing over my skin. His motion became frantic as I ground against him, my own arousal becoming urgent. He laid me back on the pallet and exposed my body to his black gaze. I waited as he dipped his head to my hip. He tasted me, nibbled at my flesh maddeningly, until he came to my cunt. He parted me at the apex of my sex, spreading me wide as he exposed the pulsing, needy lump of flesh. He exhaled against it, the heat of his breath driving me upward to meet his lips He dipped his head, latching onto my clit, suckling it, drawing a long, low moan from me. His tongue played over the nub, and my legs parted for him. He played at my lips, his fingers flirting with entering, but never fully penetrating me. I jerked as he gave a light nip to my clit and then smoothed the abused flesh with his skillful tongue.

I slid my hand to his cock, feeling the heat and hardness through the fabric, jerking his foreskin upwards as he ministered to me. His mouth became frantic as I responded to him in kind, wickedly teasing his flesh as he had mine. He sat up, his lips wet with my juices, jerked his trousers down his slim hips, and tore the tunic over his head. I loved the bluish hollows of his body and the pure white flesh of his scars. I watched him hungrily as he returned to me, settling on top of me. I waited for the claustrophobic feeling that I had felt before when he wanted to mount me from this angle, but as he moved my legs over his hips and entered, all I felt was a connection. He kissed me again, and I revelled in the taste of myself on his tongue.

He moved steadily in me, his cock hot and sure, as I felt the silky drag of his flesh in mine. His face was a picture of concentration, his half-lidded gaze never left my own as he delved into me. I cried out as his thrusts became less rhythmic, hungrier. The slap of flesh on flesh and our mingled odours, spicy and sweet, became more than I could stand as we both strove against each other. I let out a long wail, and my toes curled as I pulsed around him, jerking him over that star-filled abyss with me. When the euphoria receded he said, "I am yours, for now and always."

"And I am yours," I answered, feeling a tugging of my magic at his words. "We belong together, forever."

That was the day of our true marriage. What vows we spoke later would be for everyone else.

&*&*&

That night, after the women sowed the ground around the town hall with salt to keep any vengeful spirits within the ring, Fred set the building on fire. We all watched in solemn awe.

Our time under Greyback was over.

We had triumphed.

FIN



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