Who Did You Say You Were?

Fenrir breathed deeply of the damp, cold Autumn night air.  The London mist felt cool on his skin, and he liked it. It was a nice change of pace. The den had become stifling, especially since taking in James Blood and Blood's entire pack.  Fenrir had done it to save the large number of werewolves that were with Blood. Unfortunately, that brought with it the largest werewolf that even Fenrir had ever seen. There were no controls on Blood, save one. Fenrir. A word from Fenrir, or a sharp clip to the side of Blood's head reminded him that, although Blood was younger and certainly bigger and faster, Fenrir was still the alpha male. That wasn't going to change while Fenrir still had breath.

Older and white haired, and now looking a bit more scruffy with age, Fenrir was all done with appearances. He felt closer to werewolves than humans, and it certainly made life easier for him.  He worked constantly to try to keep himself healthy and in shape, and it showed. The very young adult males in the pack still had yet to best him, not that they didn't try.

Tonight, he was simply dressed in black slacks, a black long sleeved t shirt, and a long black leather duster coat, one that had somehow worn well with age, despite the demands Fenrir had always made on it.  He'd seen a passed out drunk in the darkened corners of Knockturn and had simply picked up the unfinished bottle of firewhiskey from him. That bloke didn't need it anymore, surely. He felt no conscience about swiping it and taking a large drink from it. The old familiar burn down his throat was pleasant.  There were some human pleasures still worth something.

Although Kace wouldn't approve it, Tris quite practiced dark magic. This is what she knows, what has been learned to do as a member of the Death Eaters.
For this reason, almost at midnight, she is going through Knockturn Alley in quick step. She had to rebuild some supplies required for potions she wants to prepare these days.
However, although she often comes here, still not feel comfortable, especially now at the night.
It's dark, and it's so cold that she is freezing despite long coat with a large hood that covers most of her face.

As she passed, she looked around her.
This place is almost deserted, with only the occasional passer-by who gives her disgusting smiles, probably wondering what a young girl doing here so late.
She would ask herself same question, but she knew the answer. This is her only chance, otherwise she would have to lie about where she's going.
Kace asleep and she successfully slipped out of bed and left the house in the clothes that she previously packed and left in the living room.
All the ingredients were in her bag, now just has to get out of here.
The fastest way would be to apparate but she couldn't do that. Because of the pregnancy felt constantly nauseous, and that process would only aggravate her condition. When she got home, she would has vomited long.
For this reason, to the house went on foot, although the trip was long.

Not far away, a man took bottle of alcoholic beverage from the road which was standing next to a drunk who was probably unconscious.
She shook her head in disgust when she heard her name and stopped in.
In fact, not name, but last name.
"Greyback!" she turned in the direction where the sound came. It was one of the Death Eaters, she only waved and continued on walking.
He had to be a Death Eater, right? How else would know her last name?
Although, one thing was strange, he couldn't know it was her because this was Tris because her face is completely hidden, but as far as she can see, she is the only Greyback here.

(i presume fenrir can "get him?" if not, I'll edit.)

Someone calling him out? Here? Fenrir turned and took two large strides, hurled his bottle to the ground and snatched the man by his throat.


"What would you be wanting me me, Mate? You've got more than your share of cheek, don't you?" the venerated old werewolf snarled.


"Now, now, Fenrir," the younger human man was now showing a bit of fear in his tone. "You owe me, that's all."


"I do, do I? What the hell for? Seems to me you were well paid."

"H-h-how?" the man was now stammering, regretting calling him out.

"I let you live," Fenrir sneered.  "I could collect now on that, couldn't I? They'd not find enough of you left to put in an envelope to post you to your mama."

"Well, maybe...maybe I'll let it go this time," the man was now trying to bluff his way out of this mess.

"You mark my words well, you young fool," Fenrir said, "You call out my name here or anywhere else, and it will be the last word you speak. Now, go home. Get away from me, before I change my mind." The man stood in front of him, frozen. "Run," Fenrir barked. The man dashed off into the darkness and was gone.

"Stupid little brat," Fenrir mumbled distastefully.

(Of course you can, it's just a way to Fenrir and Tris start something)

Tris stopped when the old man who until recently drank whiskey that he found on the road approached the man who had called her and obviously, the two of them have not led at all pleasant conversation. Why? Does this man even called her?
He had called her, she can swear she heard Greyback. Certainly not a mistake.

After a few moments the man went... running?
While they talked, even at this distance she could notice the fear in his face. Panicky look of a man who truly cares about his life.

Although every reasonable part in her head screamed to go away, Tris wouldn't be her if she doesn't make herself into trouble, right?
For this reason, marched approached the old man, who was standing, obviously annoyed.
Her high heels are echoed in this street, the sound is now almost sounded creepy.
She went to the man and stripped the hood off her head just because of decency.

She cleared her throat before she spoke.
"Excuse me, can you tell me who was this man? Probably none of my business, but I could swear that I was called to a moment ago. I distinctly heard my last name, Greyback," she looked at the old man in question.

He heard the voice of a young woman speaking. At least she hadn't called him out.  He listened.  She said her name was Greyback. Well, that certainly was possible, now, wasn't it? There were probably a lot of little Greybacks, truth be told. Fenrir was far from a saint.


"Him?" Fenrir gave her a bit of a cheeky grin. "He's not at all important. He's nothing but a two bit grifter. He was just looking for someone to try to shake down tonight."  He studied her face in the dim streetlight.  He thought he recognized the eyes. He still had a sharp memory. He remembered the women, in particular. And he thought perhaps the girl had her mother's eyes.


"So you say you're a Greyback, are you? Who are your parents, then? There are a lot of Greybacks." Well, in point of fact, there were lots of Greybacks, most of them most likely were half-siblings to the child in front of him. It was unlikely she knew that, though.

She looked at the man who is standing next to her. Something in his manner was forced Tris to feel fear. True, he hadn't said anything wrong, didn't raise his voice, but something in his manner was dominant. It was as if he feels he is above the rest, and Tris didn't have the strength to contradict.

"Yes, him" frowned slightly as she listened to descriptions of a frightened man who escaped a few moments earlier.
"Okay, it's obviously that you have an opinion about him. I was just wondering if he had called me, it's obvious that it is not" she shook her head.
The man looked at her, almost heavily. The way he looked at her, like he already knows her, or sees someone else in her. He looked at her, but as that is not really seen her. 

She was surprised when she heard the following question.
"Surely you will agree with me when I say that this is quite a personal question, sir," watching him a few moments. Then, she decided to tell him. What he can do with that information? Her mother is long dead, and her father was in the woods probably nowhere, if still alive.
"Were, sir. My parents were Clara Evans and Fenrir Greyback." She tilted her head slightly as she spoke these words, only a trace of derision could be seen on her face.
"Yes, I heard that there is a lot Greybacks, but I don't know them. I grew up in the Muggle world," she said honestly

Fenrir was too long in this world not to smell fear. The girl was afraid. He was used to that. He'd spent his life getting paid to terrify others and intimidate them into Voldemort's way of doing business.  Well, until Voldemort passed. 


"You know," he said, in response to the fear her saw in her, "If I'd wanted to hurt you, I'd have done it by now. I'm just...getting out of the proverbial house."  Well, he didn't live in a house, but she wouldn't understand that.


"Clara," he said, with a bit of an amused smile. "Of course she would. She'd have gotten you as far away from this world as she could get.  Most likely me she was afraid of letting you contact--not that she didn't have reason. I am a Greyback. I am THE Greyback people think of first when they think of our family. I knew your mother. I am Fenrir--I'm the only Greyback, so far as I know, that your mother ever was with. So, what brings you back into this world after Clara kept you so sheltered?"

She looked at him without saying a word, but tried to look relaxed, as if this situation isn't totally strange and too similar to scenes from some horor film. Obviously, she didn't succeed.
She looked at him with a high, it's obvious that she is inherited from the father, to watch people from a height because her mother always was too good to keep that property could inherit from her.
She looked at him coldly, almost with derision as only one Greyback can.
"You don't scare me. I have no reason to fear the man I accidentally met in a dark alley," she said coldly successfully concealing the truth, she's really scared. Although, he was right about one thing: if he wanted to hurt her, he could do it by now. He simply looked as if all this very amusing.

She looked at him, puzzled. How does he know her mother?
She was about to ask before, when his words completely shocked her and silenced.
So many times she thought about whether it will ever get to know her father, but that scenario never took place in the dark street at a time when she slipped out of the house where she lives with fiance in order to buy ingredients for her potions.
She looked at him quite sure he was joking. Of course, for Fenrir have all heard, it is not hard to pretend that he is, isn't it?
"Fenrir? You?" she began to laugh uncontrollably likely as a result of a large shock. The fact is that this situation isn't funny at all.
"That man, if he is still alive, surely his time spend in the foest, alone or with other werewolves." she shook her head and looked at him.

He asked why she was here. The fact is that this is now the only world that is real for her.
"When I got the letter from Hogwarts my mother was admitted to possess power. She realized that it was too risky for me to stay in the Muggle world. After she died ... well, I went through a bad period, I would probably be dead by now that if Death Eaters aren't accepted me and continue to raise me, "she said honestly. Without them, she would by now surely be dead or possibly from an overdose of lying in an alley.

Well, it wasn't the first time he'd heard someone try to bluff their way through an encounter with some false bravado.  He didn't react except with a very tiny light of amusement in his eyes.  He was pleased to see that she at least intended to hold her own with him.


He listened to her discount his aging, weathered appearance and his simply being here in Knockturn.  


"I've got a lovely flat, my dear, in Bishops Avenue," he said sarcastically.  "Think about it. Werewolves these days live in packs to survive.  That means I am responsible for the wellbeing of more pack members than you realize. Now, I can't exactly do that out in a woods. Werewolves are carnivores. I can't feed any size of a pack on squirrels, now can I? London is much better suited for my needs--for a lot of reasons. There is, after all, a lot more fresh meat sources here that I can get without much struggle here. All sorts of it, as a matter of fact."


He listened to her tell about her short but difficult life and ending up with some protection from the Death Eaters.


"Dark arts, then. That's good. Good. It will serve you well," He said.  "If you're wise, you'll endear yourself to Lorcan D'Eath. He could be helpful to you. He won't necessarily be easy to get to, but you should try."

She looked at him and listened to his speech. As he spoke about the pack, fed and everything, she felt nauseous, as if at any moment can vomit. Maybe that can happen, however, she is pregnant.
She shook her head as if to dispel those thoughts.
"Well, I'm glad at least a someone is substantial to you" she said coldly as she looked at him. She could not understand it. He cares so much about the pack and their lives, but never really cared for his own children. She does not know if he even knew she was there, whether he knows that he will become a grandfather for a couple of months?

She looked at him quizzically. "It is not only care about benefits. I owe them and that debt I can never repay," she said frankly. "The most I can do is to swear to eternal loyalty, and that is what I am doing. Lorcan knows me, knows that I would have done almost all for the Death Eaters," she shrugged.

[btw we really need Lorcan&Tris thread. I see her as a very loyal person to him]