We rise by lifting others

"I know what I'm asking for," she said quietly.
"I heard about him, I know or at least I think that I know for what he's capable of."
The truth is that there is probably not exist a person in the wizarding world, but even in Muggle world that has not heard for James Blood.
Moreover, she is almost completly sure that some Muggle horror stories are inspired by him.
Of course, Muggles do not know that he's a werewolf, but they know that he is a killer.
Miriam had never seen him, but she had heard so many stories about him that most of her life hoping that she will never meet him.

And yet, here she is now, begs her father to training contracts with him for her. With a killer. With the person who can kill her at any moment, purely out of boredom.
However, it has to take the plunge.Miriam is known for her two traits: stubbornness and ambition.
If she wants to achieve something, she will be ready to go to the hell and talk with Satan personally and to demand what she wants.
Well, one more man who wants to kill her, nothing special.

You can not say that she is the nicest person in the world.
The advantage of the new identity is as a chance to disappear.
Beatris wasn't a problem to anyone, because the Death Eaters did not know her under that name.
But Sophie Greyback was the person sought, the famous girl with the ability to completely change her look, so it is impossible to catch her, because you do not know what she really looks like, but she is dangerous and a loyal to Death Eaters.

"I will try to stay alive, I promise." she tried to turn that on joke, but did not understand how these words must be true.
Training will not be much usefull if if she does not survive even to meet with this man.
"Well, when can we start?" she said, trying to sound enthusiastic but sounded more ironic.

"I'll have to set it up," he said. "I'll send you an owl. If I allow this, it will be under my conditions. I can't afford to let him go entirely without restraint. Not even for you. Any more deaths, and every werewolf on the planet will be hunted down and killed."

He understood that she was confident. Too confident for her own good perhaps. It was a flaw that Greyback children seemed to carry in their DNA. Ambition was always there too, and she was certainly ambitious.

However, he had seen Greyback children die because they hadn't listened. Fenrir was one of the very few werewolves he'd ever heard of who had lived to a ripe old age. Most of them died early, either because of being at war within themselves about the curse, or because of sheer stupidity. Fenrir understood about risk and survival, and he believed he had about 60 years more experience at it than Sophie.

He would say no more to her about his thoughts about this. He knew better, though. Blood had been killing people longer than Sophie had been alive. What was it about people in their 20's that they all seemed to believe they were skilled enough to run with the "big dogs?" That only came by younger wizards and fighters paying their dues. Trying and getting the poo kicked out of them several hundred times until they learned.

Since Greybacks often got the poo kicked out of them just simply because they were Greybacks, Fenrir was fine that she got that lesson right out of the way, but he personally despised seeing Greybacks offed prematurely.

James certainly could kick the poo out of her, that was for certain, but James nearly always got entirely out of control. Violence triggered an impulsive reflex of some sort that made him kill. Unless Fenrir specifically ordered James not to kill her, and unless someone was there to pull James off when his less-than-stable urges fired up, James would surely try to kill her. Tangling with James wasn't ever just about some big Godzilla sized brute. He was almost uncontainable if he got out of hand, and Fenrir couldn't afford that.

She frowned.
"All right, I agree with that. Of course I want to learn how to fight, but I do not want to carry on my soul werewolfes lives" she shrugged.
Tonight she will surely have a lot to think about.
This is a big step, even for her, which is known for having recklessly enters into a dangerous situation.
Maybe she should make some reserves of fast healing potion? Yes, on the way home she will buy the necessary ingredients.

She looked at the sky, which is almost invisible through the dense canopy of trees.
It was as if the sun goes down.
Miriam is smart enough to know that forest like this is dangerous by day, and at night would come here only fool who want to die fast.
The forest was creepy, eerily silent and yet somehow it all seemed peacefull.

She sighed before she got up.
"Thank you. I'll be waiting owl from you," she smiled and then shook a little dirt from her jeans.
"I think I should go. It's not safe for a witch to be here at night," she closed her eyes for a moment and opened them only when completely changed her appearance.
She did not want to risk that people wonder what albeit girl working in a forest full of werewolves and other dangerous creatures.

The smaller hunting lair in the woods where Sophie had found him wasn't where he lived. He only spent time in the woods when he was hunting for the pack. The larger lair was in London, underground. It was larger, more solidly constructed, easier to secure, closer to food sources and water and cash. Besides that, in the Forbidden Forest there was always some little idiot from Hogwarts taking some dare from an upper classman about going into the woods and surviving. The city was better suited for the pack by far.

After Sophie had left the woods, Fenrir returned to the main lair and had met with James. James had no problem in entering a challenge with a female, but he didn't like rules. As he expected, Fenrir found James to be demanding a free hand to do with Sophie whatever he pleased. Fenrir had no intention of giving him that much. James had had the audacity to challenge Fenrir's command, saying Fenrir was too old to lead, that he'd gotten senile and soft.

Fenrir had, of course, had no choice but to defend his role as alpha male in the pack. It had come down to a brawl. James believe he could defeat the aging werewolf easily but Fenrir hadn't gotten to be an aging werewolf by being a pushover.

The fight hadn't lasted long, but Fenrir had made his point and had put James back in his place and had set some firm rules. He'd had a couple of his scouts find a location for a fight. They had gone out and found an abandoned warf that gave them a wide spread of open land, away from human contact.

Fenrir had sent an owl with an encrypted message giving Sophie the location and the 5 pm time. If she were clever, she'd decode the message. Fenrir chose to meet at dusk so that it further reduced the likelihood that muggles would stray into the area. Then he sent sentries from his pack to set up security to keep everyone else out and keep the abandoned Royal Dockyard safe for the meeting.

It would give her time to prepare. That, and Fenrir wanted James well fed. A hungry werewolf, regardless of how large he was or wasn't, was just not worth the risk to a young human female. He ordered the pack females to tend to James to be sure that he didn't go into this with any other need adding to his tendency to be volitile.

Just as Miriam expected, day in her work was very tiring.
However, she has been training for almost a month and had grown very strong.
This was probably contributed by many hours she spent working out at the Muggle gym.
However, what is surprising is that even though the pain is present because of the blows she received today, the pain was a lot milder than the previous days.

All she wanted when she got out from the Auror's office at 3 pm is a bath and sleep.
She arrived home and immediately went to the bathroom.
After spending almost half an hour in the shower, finally wore pajamas and headed for the kitchen to find something to eat.

What was not expected was tapping on her window.
She frowned before she turned on the light and opened the window and went inside nice, though obviously old owl with a message for her.
She took the small letter from the owl which immediately flew away.
She frowned, reading the message, a series of seemingly unrelated words.
For a moment she thought about these words before she realized, or at least hoped that she realized it.
The message is obvious from her father, with the location to which she needs to come for an hour and a half.
Obviously, she will not sleep in her bed now.

She sighed and then went into the kitchen and made a dinner.
After eating, she started toward the room wondering what to wear.
Something probably comfortably. If she will meet James this evening, she must be ready for anything, certainly not to wear something that will make her hard to move.
Finally, dressed in a tight suit and a cotton T-shirt and jacket.
For a moment she looked at her wand, and then she decided to take it for any case.
There is a big chance she will not even get a chance tot use her wand but she doesn't want to risk.

Twenty minutes before 5 pm, she was ready to go.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror before she laughed to herself for encouragement and then aparated to a location of her father ordered.

Since the aparation is very fast and efficient form of travel, she arrived 15 minutes early.
However, the sun was going down, and the resulting uncertainty aparated in place, is five minutes walk from the place where she was supposed to arrive.
As she approached, she noticed the werewolves who were obviously there to be sure that no unwanted entering.

She looked at them a little unsure what to do.
"I am Beatris Greyback" after she said that words, they finally let her in, and she found herself on the great plain.

So, he had gotten some firm orders. He was to train this female, not turn her, not kill her. James didn't take orders normally. Not unless it was Fenrir giving them. James believed the old man was getting soft. He never used to protect his children with a "no kill" clause. James had challenged him, and Fenrir had surprised him and shown that he wasn't going to hand leadership of the pack to anyone else any time soon.

He had followed Fenrir to the warf. Fenrir had brought only a few of his males along for the fight--just enough to help wrangle James if he got into a frenzy. As further insurance, though, Fenrir carried a length of boatchain draped over his shoulder. It wouldn't be the first time Fenrir had resorted to chaining James up, and Fenrir doubted it would be his last.

James eyed the woman. Towering over everyone else there, he saw her even before Fenrir got out from in front of him. She was a little bit of nothing. Almost two feet shorter and she was slender. He figured she could use her wand, but that wasn't what this was about.

"Your wands will not be used today," Fenrir said. "You'll both be so kind as to turn them over to me for the moment, I trust?"

James shrugged. It didn't bother him either way. He handed his wand to Fenrir.

"Play nice," Fenrir scowled at them both. He looked at James. "She's here to learn, not for roughhousing. Not yet. Teach first. Roughhouse later--when I say so."

"You sure you want to do this, Shorty?" James looked at her.

Miriam had seen her mentor even before he came out into the open.
This is a really huge man made up only of muscles.
Miriam against him looked like a little brittle dwarf. Well, now she even felt like one.
For one brief moment, she thought that this was all a big mistake.
How this man can learn her anything except how to submit a good spanking? She was already about that she shold probably call her second mentor and say him that tomorrow she can not come to training. Of course, under the condition that she stay alive long enough to say him.

When this huge man, so much that much big that even giant would feel shame, walked toward her, he looked even bigger and scarier. The sun was setting, and in the half-light his expression was ominous.
She heard the words of her father, and for a moment she looked at him in shock.
Without wands? Is he kidding? Without her wand, she loses the least prospects.
However, as a Slytherin, ambitious and pride are outweighed everything else, and did not allow to notice the fear on her face. Her expression was completely neutral as she approached, taking out her wand and then gave it to Fenrir.

No rough stuff for now? Oh, he should give her hope that she can be drawn and then destroy her? Smart thinking.
Although Miriam used to the fact that she is lower than the average even for a girl, this comment was offended. How dare he call her Shorty? Does he have any manners?

She looked at him reproachfully before she spoke with a firm voice that surprised even her.
"I have a name Giant," she said coldly before she icely laughed and nodded.
"More than sure" she looked more carefully her opponent, trying to find something that could be his weakness.
But she found nothing. However, for an immense and terrible man, he is kinda handsome and attractive. But she did not trust her feminine charm would help her now.

(lol. just a hint about james. he's not liable to call her by name, probably not ever. he rarely uses anyone's actual name b/c it amuses him if he thinks it irks someone.)

"Do I have any manners?" James echoed. He pretended for a moment to check his pockets. "Nope. Don't think so." He walked over to her, held out his arm straight from his shoulder and it still cleared over the top of her head. "Shorty," he grinned, amused. He squinted slightly, looking at her eyes. "Blue? Not gray? Hm..."

"The cub is mine, James," Fenrir reminded him sternly, not giving him an opening to get off task.

"Touchy, touchy, Daddy," James said, not taking his eyes off her. "She's not the female I want anyway." He sized her up, looking at how her body was structured. "Small, well proportioned. Stiff, though. You need to loosen up. You need to be fluid. Let's see how well you can keep up with me. Stand beside me. You're not looking for speed with this. You're looking for accuracy. Flexibility before strength."

He had his own routine for stretching. It was a series of 13 slow, fluid nonstop movements, much like Tai Chi, designed to stretch the entire body. If she could memorize the routine, she would be able to practice it and improve. Flexibility and fluidity was something that James believed could always be improved upon.

"Follow along as long as you can," he said.

He took a simple stance of standing with his feet a few inches apart. His routine started very simply with neck and shoulder stretching. It got progressively more difficult as his routine went to other muscle groups.

(That's fine, but it will never cease to bother her lol)

"I noticed that," she said coolly.
She watched his movements, it looks like as if he was trying to further emphasize how she is actually short. If he was a little shorted she would probably hit him.
She looked at him, trying to sound brave and haughtily, which is a bit funny, before cold laugh.
"I'm glad to entertain you, but I think the color of my eyes is not your problem," she said coolly.

For a moment she thought about giving her father a reproachfully look after hearing his words. Cub? Why he speaks as if she is some kind of bloody animal? However, she did not look at him because she could not look away from the giant who was standing in front of her.

At this time, Miriam felt uncomfortable.
This obviously was not about her, but it comes to provocations between two powerful werewolves.
Still, she felt like an ordinary thing while he carefully weighed up and down studying her.
He acted as if she were just a thing which he assesses by the quality.
She remembered why she was there and stood silently beside him. IShe must work with him, but is not obligated to chat with him, right?

Miriam watched him carefully before she began to imitate his movements.
She can hardly contain herself not to laugh.
Some exercises are really demanding but, in principle, almost identical to those that she was doing at the sports classes while she was in the Muggle school.
Fortunately, the training made her a lot stronger and a little bit she is back in shape and she could keep up with him.
The last thing she wanted him to think she is weaker than she really is. He would probably have an appropriate nickname even for that.

James observed her movements. She was more limber than he thought she would be. That was a plus. He'd be able to move on to other things. He also believed in power, strength, agility, and, certainly, speed.

"Not bad," he told her. "Let's run. Then we'll add some agility tests to it." He motioned to the handful of werewolves that had come with them to the warf. "You'll be obstacles," he told them. He looked at her. "We'll run to the warehouse and back," he pointed to a warehouse that was about a hundred yards away. "On the way back, their job will be to apparate in, right in front of you, maybe grab you, trip you, whatever they can do to block your path. Your job is to manage to dodge them. There will be a lot of them, and they'll come at you in rapidfire succession. Think you can do it?"