Life in an Alien Land 2: The Werewolf Chronicles

Life in an Alien Land II: the Werewolf Chronicles

Chapter 5: Full Moon Night

Borowiec followed me to the door, his handsome face severe. He said, "Wash his scent off you. If I can smell it, so can everyone else. Do you want to get yourself killed?"

I fled down the stairs to the little cubby my mother and I had been given next to the W.C. How could I have been so stupid? And with him? I cursed my brash acts under my breath. As I scrubbed my face, exposed skin, and then donned a clean tunic, I tried to banish the hungry feel of his lips on mine and the resultant ache I felt as he answered my kiss.

I had never fancied him at Hogwarts. He was always too sour, too forbidding, and too ugly for that. I didn't even respect him at first. Oh, I gave the show of it as my parents had taught me to do with all adults especially teachers, but he was just an annoyance in a long list of things I had to endure. I had more things to do than worry about how to make a stupid potion. Why bother, when I could just pop into an apothecary and get one, right?

Except, I started to care about him and his welfare. It began when we stayed at Grimmauld Place the Yule that that loathsome snake attacked Dad. I was unable to sleep most nights because I still had dreams of my time with Tom Riddle. Most nights I sat in the library with my hands up to my mouth trying to prevent the screams from escaping. It was that bad when I dreamt. Several nights I saw Snape enter the house, always staying in the shadows, always silently menacing. I hid from him simply because I did not want to be found out. Not that I thought he would care, but I knew he would tell Mum and Dad about my nighttime wanderings if I disturbed him. Adults did things like that.

One rainy night I saw him enter and his gait wasn't so sure, his tread not so gliding. He made his way to the banister and paused, a thing I had never seen him do. Usually he flowed up the stairs like ink in water. He clutched the wooden finial 'til his knuckles were white. I watched from my hiding place behind the door, a steady drip- drip sound registering in my hearing. I wondered at that, but thought it came from the bottom floor bath. I saw him stir, his sunken eyes sweeping the area as if he sensed someone watching. I shrank into the shadows until I heard his halting tread on the stairs and then the door to his room open.

When I thought it safe, I made my way back to the room I shared with Hermione, dodging the puddles that Snape had obviously left in his wake. It was unlike him to be so careless of his surroundings. It was only the next morning, when I woke, that I found the moisture I had not missed was not rainwater but blood. The evidence was on my feet and my bed linens, rusty and dark.

He greeted us in the morning with his customary sneer and I would have dismissed him entirely but for the way he moved, jerkily and favouring one side. I stayed as long as I dared at the table, watching him as he picked at his food, before Mum chased me away. His eyes followed me as I left; burning me with their intense scrutiny like one of those lasers I had heard about in Muggle Studies. I dared a glance back and he dipped his head as if in reply to my unasked question. I fled. He did not return during that holiday and by the end of sixth year, I thought him a traitor, which ironically, he was. Just not to our side.

Once done with my reminiscences and after washing Snape's scent off me, I spent the rest of the day labouring in the kitchens or outside in the kitchen gardens. I did as I was ordered, and only that. I caught glimpses of Fred as he walked with the other newly Turned. He seemed different somehow, as if the taint of the curse had poisoned him against me and Mum. He saw me, I know. I felt the heavy weight of his gaze on my back when I passed him.

Mum was destroyed by his nonchalance. She worked in hurt silence all day, her eyes red, her hands always busy with some project. She had been like that when the git Percy had pulled his stunt, turning his back on the family for the glory of some cauldron project. I wished I could make everything better for her, but knew I couldn't. I would just endure her tears as I had when I was younger, and try not to feel the crushing blows that kept coming at us. It was all I could do.

I wondered at what had happened to Snape after I left the room. I hadn't seen him go to Greyback's lair in the town hall. I hadn't even seen him emerge from the inn. I could only hope that I hadn't gotten him punished too badly. Borowiec, even with his position in the pack, seemed to be fair. He never abused the enslaved humans unless ordered to do so, and had spoken against my punishment the night before. It was just my bad luck that Greyback had entered the inn to greet the newly turned when I took the chance to speak to my brother.

At noon I was directed to return to the kitchens for duties. I spent the time daydreaming about what life would have been like had we won the war. Most people would tell me if they knew, that there was no point in torturing myself like that, but it passed the time. I thought Harry and I would have married. We would have had two children, a boy, James, and a girl, Lily. She would have had my hair and his eyes, and he would have looked just like Harry. Harry had wanted to be an Auror, so that is what he was in my dreams. I just didn't want to turn out like Mum, so I embarked on an number of fantastically exciting careers, from Seeker for the Harpies to reporter for the Society page at the Prophet. The work went faster with my idle thoughts and I was halfway through peeling the pile of potatoes before me, when I sensed a tense lull in the everyday noise of the kitchen.

Greyback stood in the doorway, his sharp yellow eyes landing disdainfully on several of the women. He was flanked by Borowiec and Clearwater. Greyback entered the room. He prodded the side of beef that had been brought in that day from the dairy farm. He said something to Borowiec and the Beta nodded. Clearwater inspected the beef and returned an answer also. Greyback smiled and the expression sent chills through me. It was the same predatory expression I had seen on him the night he attacked Bill.

I felt pain in my hand and noticed that I had a death-grip on the knife handle. I loosened my fingers, willing the fury and fear that the Alpha's presence brought to the fore away. I returned my attention to the dwindling pile of potatoes and began peeling them once more.

Greyback progressed through the room, pausing to inspect the work or the quality of the stolen goods. The Alpha paused before me. "This is the bitch taking care of the Traitor?"

I felt the knife slip and I cut my palm, the blood dripping in freshets from the cut almost immediately. Greyback's nose twitched at the scent as Clearwater said neutrally, "If I may, sir?"

When Greyback approved her action, she pulled my hand to her and cast an Episkey over the wound. It sealed but remained painful. I resumed my work, having learnt my lesson the evening before. Greyback let his eyes roam over me. "You're not very polite, girl."

I kept my head down. "Yes sir. I'm sorry, sir."

"Well, thank Borowiec's mate for healing you." He sneered, not as well as Snape. The expression was too toothy, too feral. I felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rise in my throat and breathed deeply.

Once under control, I said in as even a voice as I could manage, "Thank you, Healer Clearwater."

As they moved to the next workstation, Greyback turned to Borowiec. "Let the chit prepare the Traitor tonight and bring him to the police station. I want her to see what a little bitch he is. She can spread the word to all his students and the remaining Order members that are still loyal to him."

Borowiec inclined his head. The woman next to me sighed, bringing the Alpha's golden-eyed attention to her. "How old is this one?"

The woman was about a decade younger than Mum and looked a thousand years older. She was a Muggle brought in from the last raid and had watched as her children were turned and her husband devoured in front of her. We all knew her to be more than a little mad, and utterly useless in the kitchen. Her life before the nightmare began had been one of luxury, and pampering. Her husband had been a Barrister in London, highly sought and well paid. The woman cackled madly. "Don't you know to never ask a woman her age?"

Greyback growled and with a transformed hand, slit her throat. Amidst her gurgling laughter, he drank from the gaping wound in a parody of a lover's embrace. I saw her eyes dim and then become glassy and I swallowed my gorge convulsively.

Greyback turned to his lieutenant, gore dripping from his chops and onto his pristine linen shirt. "Feed it to the pigs. They need more protein"

He kicked the body once and left the kitchen. Until that moment, Borowiec had held himself still and without reaction to the scene. He cast a Muffliato, which somehow encompassed me as well as Clearwater. I remained as impassive as I could under the circumstances as he said with a voice laced with venom, "He gets worse everyday."

Clearwater nodded. "I told you that after his last session with Snape. You didn't have to repair him after the last full moon."

"I know." Borowiec answered, his brows knitting together. "We will act soon enough. Be patient, my sweet. I'm still constrained by the our conspirator's orders. You know he has several plots running."

"You need to be more careful, Darling, you never know who is listening." Clearwater said, casting her gaze to several women who had stopped work to stare at the body on the floor. The two walked to the body, their voices becoming thin as the spell was stretched to its limits. The Healer continued, "We'll need to give her a proper burial, Dusun. Her children will want to be there."

They walked out of the room and the spell snapped. I had reached my own limit and I sobbed into my hands as several of the other women joined me. Mum was the one to begin cleaning the Muggle's body, along with the Chief of Operations, Tilda.

~(@)~


After dinner was served and while the sun rode lower in the sky, I entered Snape's room. He stood by the window already nude, I couldn't tear my eyes away from his lean form as he flexed into a bored stretch. He turned to me, his eyes hooded and dark as he said, "I always felt you watching me, Miss Weasley."

I lifted my chin. "They want me to escort you to Greyback tonight."

"Why did you watch all those nights in Grimmauld Place?" He padded toward me, his thin feet making sliding sounds on the polished boards of the floor. He ran a hand over my face, not touching skin, but leaving a trail of heat in it's wake nonetheless. "I know I was never an object of schoolgirl fantasy for you. That was reserved for Potter, wasn't it? Was it some misplaced sense of pity for me? Did I evoke some latent motherly instincts in you?"

“Fuck you , Miss Weasley.” It took all my resolve to keep from fleeing to the door even as I looked into the depths of his eyes. He was in pain and lashing out like an animal. He looked away first. “I neither want nor need your pity.”

He picked up a leash from the work space and thrust it into my hands. “You will need to transport me with this. I am not allowed out of the inn without it.”

I held it, looking down at the innocuous strip of leather with brass fittings. It felt strange in my hands, as if I held his fate. I wanted to throw it to the floor, scream at him for accepting his torture, and then fuck the darkness out of his soul. He smirked. "It usually helps if you attach it to the collar."

I hesitated until his silky voice whipped across my senses. "Quickly, Miss Weasley. The moon will rise shortly and you do not want to be late delivering me for the obvious reasons."

I took him down the crooked stairs that I had learnt to walk so well. Several werewolves lingered over their beverage of choice, mostly ale. All the humans but those who were to be Turned, were secured in the musty basement of the town hall. It was where I should have been had Greyback not noticed me this morning.

"Are you...?" I began, but amended, "It's chill outside. Do you need... clothes or something?"

Snape ran his hand above my exposed wrist. "That heat is from my need to transform. I need nothing. Quit stalling. The Beta is waiting for us. He'll need to secure you before the moon rises."

"Who usually takes you to...?" I broke off as he jerked ahead, opening the door with a crashing thud. I heard the muttering and laughter of several werewolves. I hurried to follow him before he either dragged me or broke the leash as he rushed pell-mell to his fate.

We reached the town hall just as the sun began its final descent with a flare of red and purple. Borowiec ushered us to a room, his gait almost frantic. He growled, "You're almost too late."

The Beta shoved me to a room. "Go in and wait for me."

I entered the room laid out like an interrogation room in any policing agency of the world, Muggle or wizard. I had visited the Auror's department with dad, and Kingsley had taken me to see where they interrogated prisoners. I strode to the window so that I could see the entire scene unfolding. Borowiec led Snape to a ring in the floor and undid the leather leash. He passed an iron chain through the eye of the bolt and then through Snape's collar. He then fastened the ends with a padlock. The chain was long enough to allow him a considerable amount of movements. I was surprised. I had thought Greyback would have made his victim easier to handle. I could hear the clink of the chains and the rustle of Borowiec's clothing through a small square in the wall. Dad was right, Muggles were ingenious.

I tried not to dwell on Snape who regarded the floor in an attitude of dejected acceptance. He looked to the window, as if searching for my eyes, the ones that would witness his debasement. I moved closer to the glass, realising that he could not see me through some sort of Muggle magic they termed technology. I catalogued him in minute detail. His features, so strained during our years of acquaintance had taken on a blue pallor. His shoulders, though not broad, were solid. Several scars of known and unknown origin to me ripped across his torso, some snaking sinuously and appearing to cut around his body. His thighs were muscular but more like a Seeker's than a Beater's. His cock was a work of art, nestled in his dark hair, long, thick and hardening, as if he felt the caress of my eyes on it. I felt moist heat pool in my gut, the first I had felt since Harry's kisses so long ago. I felt my traitorous organ pulse as Borowiec left the room and my old Potions Professor pumped his cock.

I watched as he built to orgasm, his corded neck standing out in relief against the gloom of the cell. I watched him come, hungrily drinking in his strange beauty as the white liquid spurted from him in short arc, covering his still jerking fist. I ached to touch myself, to join him, to once again feel his transformational fever not quite touching my body.

I only became aware of Borowiec when he spoke. "He's beautiful, isn't he? Slender as a reed and like an icon with those sad, dark eyes."

I turned to him, guiltily rubbing my legs together in hopes of dispelling the arousal. Borowiec sat on the table at the back of the room, regarding me with his warm, amber eyes. "Tonight you are here as witness. You will be expected to make a full report of what you saw at the Cycle-end Gathering. Our Alpha wants him thoroughly humiliated, so spare no detail."

"Yes sir," I answered, dully realising how I would once again be forced to betray this man who had given so much for all of us.

Borowiec gave a dry husk of a laugh. "Don't worry about his feelings. He's had to make the same report every other time, and he'll probably have to do it this time also."

The Beta stood, an almost liquid motion in the gathering dark. "Do not leave this room. I will come tomorrow morning and let you out. He will need you tomorrow so you will be excused from the kitchen."

Borowiec left, and I waited. The minutes ticked by, measured by the encompassing arms of darkness in my cell. Snape paced and masturbated alternately, his agitation growing as his body responded to the pull of the moon. His neck thickened, his all ready protuberant nose lengthened and his teeth, always crooked and yellow, straightened and sharpened. Each minute change brought a louder sound of pain. I spoke in a conversational voice, "Snape."

He made no response and so I went to the box in the wall and spoke to the grid. "Hey, are you all right?"

I heard a muffled groan issue from the box and found a knob to turn or push. I did both, speaking into the grid at the same time. Snape was now sweating profusely and moaning, the droplets dark in colour against his lunar pale skin. The door to the room opened and Greyback entered.

"See you started without me again, Luv." The last words became almost indistinguishable as Greyback rapidly transformed into the beast.

I had read a book about the habits of natural wolves. It was by a Muggle naturalist named Farley Mowat* who spent a year on the Canadian tundra with the creatures. The dogs he described were funny, sweet and noble. They cared for their young, loved, fought, and behaved as any society of thinking individuals would.

For whatever reason, the beast that stood before Snape was none of those things. Perhaps it was that he was at once human and animal, or perhaps his behaviour stemmed only from his human side, but there was nothing noble, funny, or endearing about the way Greyback paced towards Snape.

Snape retreated as far as the chain would allow. His musculature under his glowing skin contracted and writhed and he screamed in agony as a spasm hit his legs. He doubled over as his feet elongated then shrank and claws grew and were retracted. The wolf paced around him, sniffing the plasma of the change as it leaked from Snape's stretching skin.

Greyback shoved him to the ground by knocking his knees out from under him. He hit the tile and concrete floor with a dull crack. The werewolf sniffed his body with a huffing laugh as Snape-wolf writhed. The Alpha seized Snape's neck between his gnashing teeth with great care not to puncture the skin. Snape-wolf howled, a sound between human agony and animal fear. After a momentary tussle, Snape crawled away from the wolf, saying something unintelligible through his lengthened snout. Greyback smacked him with his paw, a resounding blow that split Snape's already thin skin. I began pounding on the glass, wondering, if I broke through what could I do?

Snape rolled just as Greyback began to pummel him with his paws. Black-red dots of blood littered the window as Snape shrank away. I heard a crunch of bone and Snape's agonised scream as the wolf pounced one last time. Snape, barely breathing, was laid out on his stomach and the werewolf mounted him with a horrific thrust. Several more cracks sounded over the grid and I went to it, to cover it, not wanting to see or hear anymore.

Nothing worked to shut out the nightmarish noises. I covered my head with my hands, willing the nighttime to fly, hoping I would be able to help the Professor after such injuries were inflicted on him.

I became concerned when the noises turned to snuffling grunts and then to silence. Had the werewolf killed Snape? I peeked over the windowsill, not wanting to see the carnage, but needing to ascertain if Snape was still alive.

Greyback was draped in an attitude of unconsciousness over Snape. The Potions Master still writhed in agony, but silently. He had bit through his tongue during the attack, his blood spilled down his pointed chin in copious amounts. I tried the knobs on the grid again, "Snape, can you hear me?'

A low growl from one of their throats greeted me. Hope rose in me, "Professor."

Another growl sounded and I turned to the window just as Greyback sprang against it. I screamed and retreated, wishing for the millionth time that I had my wand, hoping the delicate barrier would hold. It did, but it bowed into my side of the enclosure, hairline cracks forming at the edges.

Snape moaned and once again tried to scramble away from Greyback, and once again was tossed about like a child's toy until he succumbed to the wolf's superior strength.

The horrific night went on and I became almost inured to the violence and gore. Almost. Several times during the night, Snape would resume human form and in those moments, I pitied him. He would watch Greyback with pain-dulled eyes, his body language supplicating. He begged for death, only to be mounted again and even more brutally. During those interludes, I prayed to the gods that he would get his wish and that I could join him. I did not want to live in a world that condoned such brutality to another being.

I fell asleep, dozing fitfully and only from exhaustion. My sleep was punctuated by agonised screams and the horrific images generated by them. I was jerked to consciousness several times by the absence of sound. At those times I would crawl to the window, not trusting its integrity and watch Snape. At some point his transformation had become less painful or he had become used to the agony, and so when his curse infected body jerked with a new horror, he only grunted. I watched as he once again convulsed to human form. His face was a mess. His jaw looked either broken or dislocated; his inky hair was matted with blood and other body fluids. He rose to his knees attempting to find some position which would allow him some comfort. As he situated himself, I noted a smear of dark blood on the tile that had issued from his rectum. I vomited until nothing but bile came out.

The rest of the night went much the same, and I catalogued it with increasingly numb detachment. I dozed again too exhausted to remain conscious.

Light spilling through the window woke me. In almost morbid fascination, I crawled to the window to see how Snape fared. The two were men again, and Greyback lay behind him, his hand on Snape's shoulder, his hips working gently the Alpha wolf's lips kissing his back. Greyback groaned as Snape moved in agony. "You are such a sweet fuck. What I wouldn't give to have you beaten like this all the time."

I heard Snape's low moan as Greyback snaked his hand around Snape's midriff, his ragged-nailed fingers finding the penis that had so fascinated me before. I watched as the werewolf fondled him, bringing moisture to the mushroom-shaped head with a deft twisting motion. The pleasure-filled pain brought a groaning plea from Snape's broken lips. "Please."

Greyback withdrew and turned Snape over on his back, propping his pale legs over the Alpha's hairy ones. I heard the rasping quality of Snape's breathing and heard him emit a pain-filled moan. I hoped his lung was not punctured. I had seen that happen to a student at the Final Battle and she had died because it was left untreated. She, too, had been raped. Once positioned, Greyback entered Snape again, his expression fleetingly tender as Snape adjusted to the new position. He kissed Snape on the lips. "I love to see you so broken. You are almost as thin and lithe as a boy is and have twice the fight. So sweet."

Snape showed no emotion but a compression of his lips. Greyback kissed the supine man again, timing his pelvic thrusts with the motion of his mouth. Snape began responding, running his hands over Greyback's shoulders, drawing him closer and then spilling himself between them. Had I not seen the glistening tears in the early morning light, I would have mistaken the movement for affection. Snape was a whore just as I had been, preforming for his audience to get him off and then make his escape, as transitory as it might be.

I scrambled back to the table and feigned sleep as I heard the first of the wards being taken down from the other side.

Borowiec watched the two for a moment before whispering, "So broken, and yet so beautiful."

I acted as if I had just awoken, and stretched. I followed him from the room and waited to take Snape back to his cell.




*The book mentioned is Never Cry Wolf. It is a good read, and explains more about humans than anything. The wolves are characters but not the main ones. Mowat's journey into the wilds made him create recipes for creamed mice (which he gives in the book) to prove that wolves could indeed live on small animals for extended periods. It is a good, fast read, with lots of really funny incidents where the Native populations wonder at the sanity of the white man they've allowed to live on their land.



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