A Song for Severus ~ (Not Update, but Edit)

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 75 ~ Proper Preparations

To Severus’ surprise, Hermione seemed far more interested in the plan to take down Fenrir, than the aspect of reasoning werewolves, though she did comment on Remus’ acceptance being the key to controlling the animal inside him.

Instead of dwelling on this however, Hermione made several suggestions how to improve the plan and the chances of Remus’ success. Suggestions that were so good, Severus took them to Albus, who wasted no time going back to Rubin’s farm and incorporating them into the current plan. Hermione was truly brilliant, suggesting that the silver mesh be lowered to prevent Fenrir from leaping away and other ideas meant to streamline the attack, assuring the werewolf would be in the proper place at the proper moment.

Some of her suggestions required Rubin to do a bit more construction, but Albus helped him. Remus and Eloise couldn’t.

Hermione also did some research in hunting magic, finding several spells that would cover Albus and Severus’ scent, well…actually remove their scent and suggested the wizards use the spell each and every time they visited the farm. Fenrir would head for the hills, heat or not if he got even a whiff of Albus Dumbledore on the premises. No one had even thought about that, and Severus felt he had done a good thing talking to the Hermione. Plus, the sex afterwards had been absolutely stellar, Hermione taking the initiative and climbing all over him. He was exhausted by the time the little witch fell asleep.

Severus took Hermione to meet Eloise. Both muggle and witch entered the barn and stayed there for more than two hours before emerging and hugging each other warmly. Severus strolled around the farm and pastures alone until the witch was ready. It really was beautiful and peaceful in the country. He wouldn’t mind living out here.

After they apparated back to Hogwarts, Severus tried to get Hermione to tell him what she and Eloise discussed.

“Oh, mostly the differences between muggle laws and wizarding laws,” Hermione said lightly.

Severus scowled.

”I think you mean the differences how muggles who are werewolves are treated compared to citizens of the wizarding world who have the malady,” he said to the witch, who shrugged and replied, “Potatoes, Patatoes.”

Severus folded his arms as Hermione sat down in one of his armchairs, staring into the fire. He studied her for a moment before he spoke.

”You aren’t going to end this conversation with a simple reference to differences in pronunciations, Hermione Granger,” Severus said firmly, “Now what did you discuss?”

Hermione looked at him.

“We talked about bigotry, cruelty, social injustice….and the necessity for change,” Hermione said, her jaw thrust out, “She told me how the Aurors tried to take Remus from her during her last heat. If Mr. Fezwig hadn’t warded them in, they would have taken him and it would have been acceptable because Remus has no rights like she does. That’s terrible, Severus…and only the beginning of the crimes committed against werewolves. They didn’t ask for this. Why should they constantly suffer for one night of transformation a month? Why should they be denied entry into establishments or decent jobs? They are just as human as the rest of us when not transformed, Severus. And Eloise told me she remembers what she does when she transforms. Her brain isn’t clouded completely. I think that part of the reason transformed werewolves are so vicious towards humans is that they aren’t properly socialized with them. Wolves are social animals, even werewolves. They aren’t blatant killers. They only kill when hunting or protecting themselves,” she said.

“So that’s what Fenrir does?” Severus asked her, frowning slightly.

”Fenrir is an animal whether in human or animal form. He’s just a killer, Severus. It has nothing to do with him being a werewolf,” Hermione spat, “If you look at all the werewolf killings and turnings over the past few years, Fenrir has been responsible for every single one. No one else.”

Hermione was right about this, but didn’t realize Fenrir’s actions were motivated by the hatred he harbored against the wizarding world. The werewolf hadn’t always been a killer. In fact, Fenrir became a killer defending his mother when the Aurors arrived at his home for their monthly harassment of the small family. The werewolf was seventeen then, and lived with his mother. Fenrir’s father had been killed years before by the same werewolf that bit him. Fenrir’s mother home schooled her son, since he wasn’t allowed to attend a normal school. She was also his only companion since no one would associate with him.

When Fenrir went through his first transformation, he was only eight. His mother Ann chained him in the yard just before the full moon rose and watched her son transform. He was wild and vicious, in pain and snapped and snarled at her, his ears flat against his head with fear. The next morning she brought him inside and talked to him about what happened and told him next time not to be frightened and just let the changes happen because they couldn’t stop them. Maybe it would be easier.

The next time his mother staked him, Fenrir did like she said, and although it still hurt, it didn’t hurt for long. The next morning he remembered his mother sitting in a chair watching him. As he got used to his transformations, Fenrir retained more and more of his mind, and the night came when his mother was able to walk up to him as a werewolf and remove the chain from his neck. He obediently followed her into the house and slept on the floor in front of the fireplace. He didn’t attack her. He knew who she was.

He hated when the Aurors would come and bully his mother, going through her things as well as his own and taking what they wanted. When she complained, she was told to send her son to the werewolf village where he belonged, and she wouldn’t be visited and items confiscated. As long as Fenrir was in her home, she would be subject to such visitations.

Ann refused to do that and the pressure increased as Fenrir grew older. The boy was huge and inspired fear in others on sight. The Aurors could see the challenge in his eyes every time they came, and they tried their best to make him lose his temper and attack them. They wanted the werewolf dead.

It was when one of the Aurors pulled Fenrir’s father’s picture out of an ornate silver frame with the intention of taking it when Fenrir finally snapped. His mother begged the Auror not to take the frame. Her husband had given her that picture when they married. Fenrir was bristling, his stomach tight as the Auror dismissively told her to sit down and shut up. Ann reached for the frame and the Auror pushed her hard, the witch falling to the floor. What happened next was a blur. Fenrir was on the Auror instantly, and before he could help himself, tore his throat out…his mother screaming at him to stop. There were two other Aurors also, but they didn’t have a chance. They blasted at Fenrir but he was incredibly fast and killed the both of them as well.

”No! No! Fenrir!” his mother cried, looking at the dead Aurors.

”They shouldn’t have touched you. They could touch anything else in this house…but not you, mother,” the young werewolf growled at her, blood smeared on his face

A look of horror crossed her face.

”You have to run, Fenrir. Run far from here. They’re going to kill you,” Ann said to her son, her eyes glistening.

“You come with me. We will hide together,” Fenrir said, reaching for her arm.

”No. No I will only slow you down. I have to stay here…in my home. But you have to go…no one will understand what happened here,” Ann said, “Go. They can’t do anything to me if you aren’t here. I will be protected. Go Fenrir.”

The werewolf left his mother and his home, hiding in the forests and hunting animals to survive. But he was lonely and one night returned to the site of his home to find only burned rubble…and another gravestone next to his father’s.

Fenrir ran up to it, dropping to his knees. He read the stone. It simply said, “Ann Greyback” and gave a date of death. It was only a week after he left. They had burned the house down around her for being the mother of a werewolf. She had paid the price meant for him

That night, an enraged Fenrir went on his first killing spree. They had killed the only person he ever loved…who ever loved him. The world would pay. He slaughtered most of two families, and turned four of the surviving children into werewolves. Let the wizarding world deal with that.

Fenrir met Tom Riddle hiding in a cave one night. The wizard was a human, but very powerful and put a binding spell on the young werewolf and told him who he was and about his own life of persecution. He told Fenrir they were much alike and about his dreams of becoming a leader of a world where the persecuted would become the masters. He convinced Fenrir to join his ranks and share in his glory. The lonely werewolf agreed.

Of course, it didn’t work out that way. Voldemort didn’t share, but he did let Fenrir kill with impunity and his protection.

Yes, that was the sad history of Fenrir Greyback. It seems everyone has a story…but Fenrir’s had to end.

His had early on become a horror story.

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Two days before the night of the full moon, Albus contacted Severus by floo and asked him to come up to his office. It was late in the evening and he and Hermione were playing a game of chess. They were evenly matched and both irritated by the interruption.

”I’ll be back,” Severus said to Hermione with a glower, “And I’ve memorized the board. I’ll know if you’ve cheated.”

Hermione scowled at him as he rose and walked over to the fireplace.

“Like I needed to cheat the last three times I beat you,” she snapped back at him as he tossed a handful of floo powder into the flames.

Severus looked back at Hermione and gave her a smug little smirk.

”Then I beat you,” he said to the witch, “Quite mercilessly I might add…in my bed. Surely you’ve discovered by now there’s more than one way I take a Queen. Ultimately, it’s the small victories I enjoy.”

He strode through the floo as Hermione reddened brightly. Severus was insufferable sometimes.

Hermione sighed, propping her elbow up on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

Insufferable, but oh so fucking sexy.

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Severus entered Albus’ office to find the wizard standing behind his desk, looking down at a burlap bag. He looked up at Severus, his face slightly contorted.

”Ah, Remus dropped this off for you, Severus,” the Headmaster said, pushing the bag toward the Potions Master gingerly with the tip of his wand.

Severus scowled. This couldn’t be anything pleasant.

”What is it?” he asked.

”As I understand it, five days worth of used menstrual pads from Miss Hedgeberry. They need the…the ‘scent’ concentrated so they can sprinkle it about the countryside the morning of the Night of the Full Moon. It seems Miss Hedgeberry pointed out that scattering pads about was not only unsanitary, but suspicious. Fenrir would know it was a trap.

Severus looked at the bag with distaste for a moment. Dear gods. But then, he shrugged. Blood was blood. Even menstrual blood. He reached out and grabbed the bag. It was very heavy. How many pads did the muggle use?

”Very well. It will be ready by morning. I’ll use Hermione’s lab,” the Potions Master said. Suddenly he grinned very wickedly.

Albus looked at him.

”Severus, what are you grinning about?” he asked him, his blue eyes shifting toward the bag uncomfortably.

”Ah, nothing sir. I will see you in the morning with the concentrated essence,” the wizard replied, tossing a handful of floo powder into the floo and stepping back through to his study.

Hermione looked up at him.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” she said, then her eyes fell on the burlap bag, “What’s that?”

Severus placed the bag on the floor.

“You’d rather not know,” he said, walking into his bedroom and leaving Hermione alone with the bag. He walked over to the bathroom and pulled the door closed as if he’d entered it, then slunk back over to the bedroom door and waited. This was the reason why he had been grinning in Albus’ office.

Hermione stared at the bag, then looked toward the bedroom. She heard the bathroom door close, quickly stood up and darted over to the bag. She took one more look toward the bedroom, then knelt, opening the bag and practically sticking her nose in it.

”Oh my gods!” Hermione yelled as the smell hit her. She staggered back, gagging as Severus exited the bedroom, grinning at her.

”I’ve told you about snooping witch,” he said, closing the bag and picking it up.

”Oh Severus! That’s…that’s just disgusting! Why in the world do you have a bag full of bloody pads?” she asked him, covering her nose and mouth belatedly.

”It is for the trap we are laying for Fenrir. I have to concentrate it into liquid form so it can be spread around the countryside to draw him to the farm,” Severus said, walking toward the study door, “I’m going to use your lab. Coming?”

Hermione shook her head.

“No, I think I’ll pass on this one,” she said, her face contorted, “Just make sure you purify and scourgify the hell out of everything you use. Gods.”

Severus smirked at her and exited the study.

Hermione scowled. He’d done that on purpose. Severus knew she wouldn’t be able to resist peeking at what was in that bag.

Oh, he was insufferable. Insufferable.

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After spending the night away from Eloise for the sake of saving his strength, an extremely randy Remus ran about the countryside at the crack of dawn, spreading Eloise’s scent all around, his cock erect the entire time. He didn’t take Rubin because with his werewolf speed, he could cover a lot of ground in a little time.

By noon, the Aurors were having problems with the male werewolves of the village, who were locked down. There were several attempts at escape by a number of males, who were badly punished and bound in chains. They would remain that way through their transformations.

Fenrir picked up the scent as he loped to a new hiding spot, stopping and becoming highly aroused as he caught Eloise on the breeze. He licked his lips, going hard immediately. He began loping toward the farm. But he wouldn’t show himself until he transformed. Eloise was in heat and he meant to have her and kill anyone who got in his way.

At the farm, Rubin finished driving the huge post into the ground, then attached the thick chain and magical collar. He used the charm he placed on Eloise’s quarters, so the muggle wouldn’t be able to pull the post out of the ground when she transformed. Eloise was the bait.

Both she and Remus were hard put not to mate. She was at her peak now and longed for male contact. Rubin had to keep shooing them away from each other. They kept snuffling and licking whenever they could.

“You need your strength, Remus! Fenrir will be able to knock you over with a quill if you get at that woman,” Rubin scolded him, “Do you want to fail?”

This sobered Remus. Abstinence now meant having Eloise for a lifetime if he succeeded. He had to succeed.

There was the sound of apparition as Severus and Albus appeared, Rubin letting them in. Severus eyed the stake, chain and collar in the middle of the ground and the open barn door.

”You’re just in time to help me herd the cattle in,” Rubin said to the wizards.

Severus sighed. Now he was a ranch hand as well. He and Albus followed Rubin over and helped him get about forty of the beasts into the barn.

Rubin looked them over with satisfaction. They were strong, healthy cattle.

”Good,” he said. Then he checked the rolls of silver fencing attached to either side of the barn doors. He flicked his wand at them and they unrolled at an amazing speed across the yard and stopping at the perimeter fencing forming a kind of corridor. Rubin then rolled it back, satisfied.

“So far so good,” he said to the wizards, then looked up at the sun. It was starting to set, “You two better get into your positions. I have to go get ready.”

Albus and Severus climbed up into the loft of the barn. They had been careful to cast the spell removing their scent. They were to wait here and observe the plan in action. If something went wrong, they would fly to Remus’ aid, wands blasting.

Rubin walked up to the stake and looked over at the table where Remus and Eloise sat nuzzling.

”Eloise, it’s time,” Rubin called.

Eloise kissed Remus.

”I believe in you,” she said softly, “Kill him, Remus.”

The werewolf nodded, his heart full. He watched as Eloise walked over to Rubin, who clasped the collar around her neck. It tightened, but not too tight. It wouldn’t release her until morning. She looked back at Remus soberly. This was the moment.

Rubin hurried inside and opened the box containing his silvered clothing. Gods, they stunk to high heaven…but that wasn’t the worst of it. He gathered up the pungent clothing and walked into his bathroom. He looked at the small bottle of yellow liquid sitting on the sink. Remus’ gift.

Werewolf urine. A little went a loooong way.

Rubin divestoed his clothing and cast the scent removal spell on his body. He pulled on a pair of underwear, then dressed in the reeking shirt and pants. He took a deep breath, picked up the small bottle of urine, opened it and sprinkled it liberally all over himself. He set it back down on the sink. Whew! What a stench!

Werewolves would love him. At least Eloise and Remus would.

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A/N: Outside of Fenrir’s AU history, this has to be one of the grossest chapters I’ve ever written. Lol. Pads and Piss. Geez. Lolol. Thanks for reading.