The Longer He Sat There, The Heavier The Weight Of Lucius' Judgment Seemed To Be. They Were Family Now,

"Oh, my kind have plenty of manners...that doesn't mean I do. We are not all one big werewolf with a hive mind, you are aware of that right? Merlin, what do they teach in that school?" Fenrir asked, closing the door behind Alecto. Every interaction he seemed to have with this woman was laced with bitterness and sarcasm, though he had to admit that he respected her taste for sadism.

Bristling at her judgment of his home, Fenrir rolled his shoulders before he sprawled across the couch - the picture of casualness. "Ah, we can't all have centuries of pureblooded wealth and handed down homes to live in. If it were just me, I'd be quite content in the caves...perhaps I should move back there, I'm less likely to have practically unannounced visits from witches," he said, eyes resting on Alecto.

"I know Angus. Our paths don't cross often, but I know him. What information are you looking for? And why?"

"Here I thought your kind had manners, but I suppose that was a mishap on my part. Do forgive me." A tight smile pulled on her features and she made her way up the stairs into the open door. "I am a witch, very observant of you." Alecto respected what Fenrir could do in a battle, and followed what the dark Lord wished, but otherwise, she found him useless.

Alecto wandered down the hall, turning when she found what was the living area. "How...quaint." With the flick of her hand, wand out, a fire started in the fireplace and she sat in the chair closest to it. "A lot of people seemed to miss their invitation. From what I remember it was our day, not anyone else's."

The witch waited until he came in. "I need to know what you may knw of Angus MacMickey. The Scottish leader."

While Regulus was growing more wary of his friends as his allegiances were shifting and changing, when Severus had reached out to him Regulus had gone without question. Reg had wondered whether Severus might understand his logic, particularly given his previous attachment to Lily Evans but he didn't dare breathe a word of it, just in case.

Stepping into Severus' home, Reg shrugged off his coat and hung it up. "I would love a cup of tea if you don't mind. It's freezing out - even warming charms don't seem to make much difference."

where: his home who: @battle-scvrs (Regulus Black) when: first of january

There was one person that Severus felt he could count on, a friendship he would be eternally grateful for. They had shared a few first together, but most importantly, he did not have many friends when he lost the one that shattered him on the inside. He could appear cold and detached on the outside, but that was him protecting himself.

"Regulus." A low gravelly voice echoes in the hallway, greeting him at the foyer. "The study is ready." He turns to find his way back to a room that was his safe haven. "Did you want something to drink?"

Who: @xremus-lupinx When: The next day after the last full moon

It had been many years since Fenrir truly suffered after a full moon. Embracing his wolfish side completely, and taking control of his pack, had made Fenrir stronger than ever. He could wake up from a full moon and go straight to work (after a long shower), and he knew that this made him better than the humans who were stuck in their body - and the werewolves that resisted their true natures. One such werewolf, young Remus Lupin, had been resisting Fenrir for years and yet still, the older man persevered. He believed that Remus would come to understand what he truly was, and realise that being part of a true pack would strengthen him. The full moon had been two days prior, and as he began making his way through Diagon Alley to work, he spotted Remus who looked rather pallid.

Pausing, Fenrir grasped the younger man's shoulder and pulled him aside. "You aren't looking so well, Lupin. Difficult night last night?"

When the owl landed on his desk with a letter from Rosmerta to say that she had closed the deal on the Three Broomsticks, Kingsley immediately sent one back to say he'd be there as soon as his shift finished to celebrate with her. The next few hours felt like they were dragging which was a feeling Kingsley rarely had at work given how much he loved his job, but he ached to go and celebrate with his friend. As soon as he could, Kingsley disapparated to Hogsmeade where it had already started to get dark out. Ducking into the Hogs Head first, Kingsley had to throw down a few extra knuts down to get the 'beef' stew to take out. Casting a warming charm to keep it hot as he made his way back up the high street, Kingsley strode up to the door of the Three Broomsticks and nudged it open with his foot.

Setting the tubs of food down on the nearest table, Kingsley's eyes searched Rosmerta's before he beamed at her. "You, my brilliant friend, are the only person on this Earth that I would risk my life for by eating Aberforth's stew. Come here, I'm so proud of you," he said, drawing his friend into a hug. @ofxsorcery

Fenrir knew the importance of showing his face, and he would normally do it without complaint - although his mood would vary depending on the company. Not only did his appearances solidify his position as someone useful to the cause, regardless of whether the Dark Lord deemed him worthy to be marked, but he was a leader of a growing pack of magical beasts and their influence would steadily grow if everything went to plan. Still, following on from them making their relationship official, Fenrir could think of little else as important as spending time with Pandora. "I know you do...and I have so many creative ways to keep you warm my darling," he said with a smirk, his hands settling on her hips as he held her up with ease.

Frowning briefly at the mention of Bellatrix, Fenrir considered the initial impact that the magic of the clock had. "Will she be able to use it to see the secret I revealed? Bellatrix's interest is a dangerous thing to play with. If you give her the artefact, she may start pressing for more."

Pandora hated those stuffy gala's and functions she was expected to go to because of her last name. She did not care for the people, one that did not like crowded places and overstimulation. Mostly whey she kept to herself. The two of them going away was true to who they were and she wouldn't let anyone take that away from her. Octavius seemed fine with her not there, though she didn't tell him the whole truth of what she was doing. "I like when you keep me warm." A squeaks errupts from her lips when he turns to pick her up, legs and arms wrapping around their respective areas. A satisfied smile forms on her lips, eyes meeting. "I do like this way better." She always felt safe in his arms. "And I like the warmth that comes off you.

She trusted Fenrir, and knew he would be honest with her. "Bellatrix is interested in the clock. I've got it to work, our magic is bound around it and will have no effect on us. Do I give it to her?"

He hadn't set out with the intention of trying to find Pandora that evening, after all he had picked the woodlands to apparate to from random chance. He had a list of preferred haunts, and the chances of her being there at the same time without them discussing it beforehand were slim. Still, he should've anticipated it the moment he realised there was a human in the forest. There weren't many wizards who would roam about alone at night in dark woods these days.

Stepping closer towards Dora, Fenrir slipped his wand back into his pocket and smirked in her direction. "Maybe you should be afraid of the creatures...I hear some of them are quite wild," he crooned, coming to a stop by the nearest tree to Dora. Leaning against it casually, Fen narrowed his eyes briefly at her question before shaking his head. "Nance has him tonight. I was just coming for a walk, and here you are. How's your magic coming along?"

Pandora had no rhythm or reason for how she conducted herself. Besides her routine shifts at Cobb and Webb's, the witch marched to the beat of her own drum. The care for her safety usually her last thought, or in most cases, no thought in general. When an idea popped in her head, she fixated until it was sorted, usually a success or a disaster, most times the latter. Tampering with spells and magic had its cost and she cared not for what it, her aim to manipulate to her will.

That is what brought the witch to the woods, in a small clearing by a pond, illuminated lights flickering around to aid in seeing her parchment. Ever since Bellatrix came into the shop and how close her spell came to doing what it was supposed to, she fixated on pushing the strength of her magic to complete the spell. The effort placed in twisting the threads of magic, exhausting herself, that she did not sense another close, forgetting to set up her wards, that Fenrir startled her.

The sudden arrival of Fenrir illicit a small squeak, turning to face him with a huff and her arms bridging over her chest. "I'm not afraid of the creatures that prowl in the woods. Most are merely misunderstood and leave me alone." A beat. "Shouldn't you be at home with Magnus?"

Pandora never seemed to shy away from him, and it was that amongst other things that kept drawing him back. A firm hand pressed against the small of her back, pressing her to him. When the two of them were like this, the rest of the world seemed to fade away - there was only the curious, beautiful witch in front of him, and the hours that they could snatch away for themselves. Desire burned within his veins at the brief sharpness of her teeth, and he hummed a noise of approval. "Over, and over again," he vowed with a smirk.

Pandora's attention felt almost as powerful as the spell that had held him, though he knew that she was looking with a curious eye to see whether the magic worked. He'd spotted the brief flash of surprise in her eyes, though he knew that he had made it clear that Magnus was his only family. Anders Greyback was an unwelcome memory, but that was all. Fenrir hardly thought of the older man at all these days, and the only time he did was on mornings when he woke up with Magnus after the full moon and saw his son recovering better than young Fenrir ever had cooped away in that cellar under his father's hateful eyes.

Brushing the decades old bitterness towards his father away as Pandora summed up his patricide with simple words, Fenrir couldn't help but agree. "Fucking arsehole is more like it," he said, moving his arms to support her as she jumped him. "Oh, I know I am," he grinned, walking a few steps backwards to a nearby tree that he could press Dora against. After a few moments, he drew back ever so slightly, speaking against her lips. "Are we going back to mine? Do you need that clock still?"

A shiver rippled down Pandora's spine with the words he confessed to her. There were those she spent time with, but there was an appeal when she was the object of their desire and wanted to take her. Her teeth grazed along his bottom lip when he pulled from the kiss, a wanton need burning in her amber hues from him. The last thing she ever wanted to do was to tame Fenrir, it was his beast that called to her, captured her in this world they had built within the woods. "I know you will. You always make good on your word." There was sexual innuendo wrapped in her words, the anticipation slowly breaking her.

There was an intimacy formed being confined in his arms with him helping her achieve success with her spell. That he would be willing to take a risk for her and Fenrir would never know how much that would mean to her. Intent hues studies his facial features, his words, they surprised her, but she did not judge him. Pandora knew there was more to the story and when he was ready, he would tell her - her attention turned elsewhere.

An ecstatic smile appeared on her lips. It worked. Pandora couldn't contain the feelings that swirled inside of her, that all she wanted to do was to celebrate with him. "He was probably a jerk anyway." The words slipped free and she didn't waste time, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping up that she could coil her legs around his waist. "You are so sexy." She murmured softly before capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

Sometimes, Fenrir wondered how simple and foolish wizards had to be to miss the signs of a werewolf that were right under their nose. He knew that Remus Lupin tried to keep his condition under wraps, to live a normal life - as if he could ever be normal whilst resisting his true nature, his true self. Yet it was plainly obvious to Fenrir that the other man was a wolf, suffering with the after effects of the full moon. How the younger man had made it through seven years worth of schooling and now several years of adult life without his condition being realised, Fenrir was not quite certain.

It bolstered him though, knowing that he could continue growing his pack, and the wider population of werewolves without too much ministry attention falling on his head. If they could hardly see what was plainly at the end of their noses, then they would not see what happened in the Scottish highlands, or the New Forest. Before they knew it, Voldemort would be the least of their concerns.

Remus' refusal to look at him riled Fenrir, but he continued to keep his hand firmly on the other man's shoulder. "That's a shame. It's not meant to be difficult, Remus. It's a beautiful thing, what we are. We are the supreme species...we should love the moon, not fear it."

The full moon always took its toll on Remus. He had been through numerous months of the struggle but still had difficulty. He couldn't get over the fact that he was a werewolf. It had destroyed who he felt he was -- or who he should be. Life would have been so much easier if Fenrir had never changed him. It wasn't fair that the young child had been afflicted because of his father's actions. Little Lupin did nothing to deserve it. With being five years old when he was changed, one would think he would be used to it but he always felt the pain, both physical and mental. It was terrifying each month.

The days following the full moon left Remus feeling unlike himself as he was still healing but it didn't stop him from going to the bookstore. At least he had an easy job. It was one where he could relax among the books and the most help he had to do was talk books. And he had to organize, dust and just keep the store in order. He was able to do such tasks while reading in between.

However, on this very day Remus was going to open Flourish and Blott's when a hand reached his shoulder and a familiar voice chilled through his bones. Fenrir Greyback. "Difficult night. Yeah," he responded not turning around.

Regulus couldn't help the way he flinched at James' easy joke. Sure, it was easy for James Potter - everything came easy to James fucking Potter. And like almost everything else in Regulus' life, Sirius was the first choice and Regulus was the unwanted extra. The little kid clutching his brother's arm, the teenager chasing after his brother's friends, the adult who was chasing everything that Sirius should have been and everything that he was not. "I know Sirius is your...I don't know, favourite person ever or whatever, but I'd appreciate not being lumped in with him any more. He made his choices, and I made mine....and you made yours," all traces of easy teasing gone from his tone, replaced with strained tension. "I'm Regulus, and I am ridiculous...and you've got no insight into my life any more. You wasted that chance."

James' innuendo made Regulus' brain short circuit for a moment, and his jaw fell agape for a moment before he collected himself. "Several years ago, maybe. But I think I'll pass on that now, I've moved on. I am, however, still interested in you grovelling. I am about to be the sole owner of all of England's jewelweed after all," he smirked. "Oh good, I'll make sure to frame it and put it over my mantlepiece."

"You're not Ridiculous, you're Regulus. Easy mix-up, I do it all the time." It was a joke akin to serious/Sirius, and something in that made James feel inexplicably guilty. It wasn't that he felt he was doing anything wrong right now, but the months when he did, years ago, threatened to resurface. Lying to his best friend had been the hardest thing in the world. In the end, he'd chosen to stop – that is, stop meeting Regulus on the astronomy tower every night, stop whatever it was that they had been doing. Sirius meant too much to him to go behind his back. And this wasn't something he could, or would, ever tell him. James made his decision, and it had been (it would always be) Sirius.

"Is that what you want? For me to grovel? Do you want me on my knees, Reg?" The double entendre wasn't intentional, but it floated in the air between them nevertheless. By the time he said it, it was too late to take back. He'd just pretend he didn't hear it. "I appreciate the concern, but I can do one more for you, don't worry."

Kingsley looked at his friend with a curious eye, wondering exactly what Edgar had been doing that day. "I'd like to tell you that you look wonderful, but my mother raised me not to tell lies," he smirked, knowing that the next time he came back from a mission bedraggled that Edgar would rake him over the coals. "Feels like each day is getting a little tougher, it's no wonder the bars are getting busier," he mused, his tone taking a more serious turn. "Ros is going to be raking it in."

Given the way their head auror had been badgering Kingsley for weeks to get his pile of paperwork sorted, he figured that they would be forgiving that Kings had disappeared half an hour early. Kingsley kept taking the night shifts anyways, he was due a little good grace. "Isn't it always?" he rolled his eyes fondly. His body language shifted at the mention of Sade, shoulders tightening and his easy-going expression morphing into one of concern. "She's....fine. You know what she wants, but I can't say I'm pleased about it. I'm worried for her, but equally, I won't stop her if that's what she decides. I've made my concerns known. We're both blood traitors, it's not like we're safe anyway...I just don't want her to put herself, or Jasper, at any unnecessary risk."

Edgar let out a chuckle, fingers combing through his hair, shaking his head. "I think I look the same I feel." He was looking forward to heading home after a drink to take a long shower. He had a few more days before Hestia would be moving in with him and he was trying not to have any regrets about it. This was the best for the both of them.

He knew they had a little more time before they should leave, but considering the amount of overtime he had put in recently, there should be no issue. "You won't hear me protesting." Both hands push into the armrests of the chair to stand up. "First round is on you though," the grins, heading towards the front door of their department. "How is your sister doing?" He knew Sade had asked for more involvement with the Order and wanted to talk to Kings about it.