Cassandra Took A Sip Of Her Drink Before Setting It Down Again, Surveying Lucius With Careful Eyes. She

Fenrir turning Remus had been nothing other than revenge for the vile way Lyall Lupin had treated him. As a young adult, he had known that turning Lyall would not be enough suffering for the older man - no, it would do more damage to turn his young son and watch that boy become everything that Lyall hated. Lyall quickly changed his tune - Remus, as far as Fenrir knew, was not on the werewolf register and his condition had largely been kept secret. So much for his allegation that werewolves deserved nothing but death, for Remus stood before him, in adequate health.

Remus' ongoing resistance towards Fenrir was understandable, and yet he felt sorrow that the younger man continued to choose suffering. Werewolves were pack animals, they were not meant to be solitary creatures. When they were alone, they would turn on themselves and rip themselves to pieces as Remus appeared to be each month.

Letting his hand drop as Remus shoved it off, Fenrir crossed his arms as he let the other man shout, not bothering to interrupt. He let him run his course, staring calmly at the other man's explosion of anger. "Look at me, Remus. Do I look like I'm covered in scars? Do I look like I'm suffering? The full moon was two nights ago, and I am in perfect health. I don't need to take healing potions the following morning, I wake up and I can get on with my life. My five year old son copes better with the changes than you do, because you are resisting who you truly are. You make this so much worse than it needs to be. I have control over myself when I turn, the pack helps with that. We're not meant to be alone, Remus. A sole werewolf suffers, but one with a pack...it's beautiful. You may think I'm demented, you may think I've lost my mind...maybe I have. But I am not the one suffering needlessly every month. I live a full and happy life. My son has a better existence than you appear to - because he has accepted his species, and runs free each full moon. There is a pack that will accept you. And if you don't want to be in a pack under me, there is a pack in Scotland that would accept you. You don't have to live like this."

Remus had nothing but hatred for Fenrir and hatred wasn't something he took lightly. Fenrir was the only one in that class. Even Voldemort was something different. He didn't understand how anyone could think it right to curse a young child to become something he would be his entire life. It was cruel and selfish. That's all Fenrir was. That's all he ever had been. Remus was living proof if he had ever dared reveal what he was to the masses. The people who knew were the only ones that needed to know.

Remus felt his broken bones and scars flare up as the older werewolf touched him. His body shivered and shook. He tried to hold steady, not wanting Fenrir to know he had such an effect on him but his body was letting him down. But there was something else in the shaking -- anger. He clenched his fists wanting to hurt the werewolf. How dare he touch him. He had already done enough to ruin Remus' life. He didn't deserve to touch the younger man.

He finally turned around, red with fury and shoved Fenrir's hand off his shoulder. "Not meant to be difficult?! Are you out of your bloody mind? Our bones tearing apart each month? Scars showing up and not knowing where they came from? Internal injuries we can't go to the hospital for because we have no good excuse? Our bodies rejecting us? Attacking the innocent? How is that not difficult?! How is that beautiful?!" Remus took his clenched fists and punched them together. "You're demented to think we're a superior race. We have no control of what we are! We're -- we're -- we're freaks of nature."

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?"

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?"

With each passing day, Regulus could no longer deny the growing feeling of resentment that he felt. He felt like a pawn being moved about on a chessboard by different players, all with little care for his feelings or wellbeing. Theoretically, Regulus knew that there were people who cared for him...but the way that seemed to manifest was driving him further away. He had never been quite so lonely in all of his life, and he feared that if he disappeared the next day nobody would know to look for him for some time. Something had to change, but he was in too deep. He'd been in too deep since his mother had frogmarched him in front of the Dark Lord and practically held his arm still for the mark to be burned into him.

His posture was rigid, but Regulus kept one hand in his pocket where his wand lay. He was certain that this office was warded and full of protective charms that would work in Edgar's favour, but if things were to turn nasty he wanted to at least give himself a fighting chance to escape. "I would prefer to stand, thank you," Regulus said, standing just behind the empty chair. "I thought the matter from the other day was settled, I'm not sure what further questions there are to be asked."

Eyeing the photo of the Black family heirloom that Edgar was showing him, Regulus summoned every inch of pureblooded training that his parents had painstakingly instilled in him to keep his expression clear. "I spoke freely and of my own accord last time. I swore to the truth of my words. I'm sorry Mr Bones, but I can't assist you any further."

It was the look in the wizard's eyes from their initial meeting with both the Black brother's and he could tell there was something more, but it was going to take a little coaxing to bring it out. Sirius Black had proven himself within the order and there was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that perhaps the younger one, he could be an asset to how they could learn how to defeat the Dark Lord. This meeting could blown up in his face or it could be what they needed.

Edgar closed the door behind Regulus when he came into his office, a different ward of charms floating around them to conceal the room for ears that should not be listening. "Mr. Black, do have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair before moving around the desk to take his seat. "I had a few more questions and thought it was best if it was a conversation between the two of us." A pause. "I won't keep you too long. I understand how important your work is."

It has long been suspected that certain Black's were more than they appeared to be, aligning in an allegiance opposite of his. He pulled out pictures of the item that they were being questioned about last time. "I thought you might be more willing to talk freely about this."

Regulus didn't want James Potter to burrow his way under his skin again like he had those years ago. It had been too easy back then, and it would be too easy now. Reg wanted to build the walls back between them again - it was more comfortable behind his walls of steel where there was less risk of his heart shattering all over again. Regulus took a step backwards, putting physical distance between them. "I don't wanna talk about it. I don't wanna talk about it, I don't want to talk about Sirius, I don't want to talk about...being your dirty secret," he said, catching the way James' eyes had darted away. "I don't want to talk to you any more at all, actually," he said harshly, feeling the sudden need to get home and hide underneath a blanket.

Frowning deeply at James' question, Reg pulled a face. "Of course I have. What, did you think I'd just...be sitting around pining for you? I made that mistake once. Never again," he sneered, before shoving a vial of jewelweed in James' direction. "I expect your undying thanks," he said, not saying a goodbye before he turned to head towards the counter.

Despite the years of distance between them, it was like Regulus was right there, inside his mind. James supposed it was like picking up an old favourite book. You may forget individual words, but the sentiment felt familiar. How James thought wasn't that different, between then and now. "I'm not... lumping you in with him," James said, eyebrows slightly furrowing in confusion. "Sorry if it came across like that. You're a long way from being just his brother, but you don't need me to tell you that." He nodded. "I know. We don't... need to talk about this." His words were careful, slow, quiet. Almost reflexively, his eyes left Regulus' at length, to look around, just for a moment. Making sure nobody was listening in out of habit. Suddenly, he was seventeen again. He felt horrible about it immediately.

"Moved on?" Again, it was too late, and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He shook his head. How had he wound up in this situation? Perhaps the sleeplessness was getting to him. "Come on, Reg. Please. You made your point." It was for a potion for his father, who wasn't feeling very well. "In that case, I'll make sure it's an extra cool one. Doing a backflip or something. Although that's nothing to you, I know." He offered a small smile. "Sure, I have no insight into your life, which is... fair enough, but I do hope you're at least still flying."

This was hell. It had to be. Some sort of sick, karmic punishment for all the harm Regulus had done. Didn't the Gods, or whatever powers may be, know that Regulus was trying to do better? Instead they offered him James fucking Potter, who was once again here to be the hero. James' stunned silence followed by the closing of his eyes led to a brief flush of relief through Regulus' bones as he thought James was about to apparate away, back to wherever Order headquarters might be and with them Edgar Bones and his stupid ideas of protection. That relief quickly died when James did not move, and Reg couldn’t help the roll of his eyes.

Blinking back at him, Regulus was aghast that James seemed most bothered about the beer. "It was getting into my socks," he said plainly. Nobody wanted wet socks, not even when faced with this situation. Taking another swig of firewhiskey for a bit of dutch courage, Regulus then settled the bottle onto the table before he gestured towards it, indicating James could take some if he wanted. "If I say no, will you forget this ever happened? Maybe you could just obliviate me right now and free us both from whatever funny business Edgar bloody Bones is doing," Reg said, staring furiously at the chair he'd been sat in as if that were the cause of all his problems. He remained rooted firmly in spot, and shrugged. "It might be hell. I think we're in hell."

If James had finished processing the scene in front of him, he did not look like it. Frozen to the spot, he didn't react – not to the clatter of the glass as it hit the table, not to the fervid string of words let out by Regulus. That all-too familiar ringing in his ears seemed to reverberate around the entire room, drowning everything else out, until it became so loud he had to close his eyes for a moment to stop the overstimulation. When he opened them again, he was still standing in the very same room at the Hog's Head. For some reason, he'd half-expected to be somewhere else. James realised Regulus must've said something to him, for all was suddenly quiet, waiting for a response.

"You cleaned up the beer?" It was the first thing he noticed. There was something oddly amusing about that. His weary eyes lingered on Regulus and the bottle that he was currently drinking from. What the fuck was happening right now? He'd never felt so confused in his life. Suddenly, he remembered why he was here, and snapped back to reality. "It's you? You're the double agent? What the ever-loving fuck, Reg?" He stared at him as if this would give him any sort of clarity. "I feel like I'm going mental. Is this a dream?"

Fenrir much preferred the quietness of this evening with Pandora to attending the Selwyn party where certain pure-bloods would look down their noses at him for his dirty blood when he knew full well they would work alongside him on a battle field without thinking anything further. If not for Pandora, he would have gone - though he'd have been in a foul temper all evening. "I can cast warming charms over you when we head out, but you know that I'll keep you warm," he said, knowing she liked the way he ran hot. He'd built up the fire in the living room of the cabin anyway, but his witch would curl into his side and seek warmth from him and he knew it. "Of course I do. If you weren't fun sized, I wouldn't be able to do this," he turned in her hold before lifting her easily so she could settle her legs around his waist. "There. You can see me eye-to-eye now," he grinned at her.

"Tell me," he said, his grin disappearing as he tried to guess from her tone what she might want to discuss.

If Pandora could stay here, call this their home, she would in a heart beat. All that was missing was Magnus. Perhaps next year, the four of them, never one to leave out Nancy, could spend it together. Her nose wrinkles at the popping of the champagne bottle, ready to have a little drink, yet, she would not unwind her arms around his, wanting to feel their fingers tangled together.

"I cannot wait to got outside and share them with you." He was like a furnace and would keep her warm, not having to dress to warm to go outside. "It sounds like heaven." Anywhere with him felt like that, a cloud nine she never wanted to come down on. There was no denying how short she was, especially beside him. "You like me fun size anyway," she teased back soflty.

"There was something I wanted to talk to you about." There were not many she talked about her magic with, except one who had shown interest recently, and with her clock finished, she hesitated a little to reach out, but there was this deep seeded need to please Bellatrix.

"Oh shit, that is exciting. Now that I think about it you do look more tanned than anyone should be in this weather," Cassie said, casting her gaze over him again. "I bet it was beautiful blue seas, right? Nothing like the grey water we have here." When the bottles arrived, Cassie uncorked the wine and poured them both a glass. "Cheers to your birthday," she said, clinking her glass against his.

"Aruba, bitches." Nick said, smug as can be. "I tried being a changed man for like, two days and it didn't take. Pushes someone into the ocean instead, felt much better." It didn't take him long to flag down a waiter, took even less time to shove a few galleons their way and get two of their finest bottles of red. "Only for you, Cassie."

Moodboard Aesthetic: Pandora Nott and Fenrir Greyback ( @battle-scvrs )

Knowing that Pandora got truly stuck into her work, Fenrir wondered if there was some benefit to teaching her some additional warding magic. He was sure that her older brother would've taught her well, if her parents hadn't, but the fact he had stumbled across her entirely unprotected...well. Pandora wouldn't turn her nose up at his dirty magic the way that the other pure-bloods did, who would brush off his offer due to his blood and his lack of magical education - as if attending Hogwarts made some of them any better than he.

"Oh darling, I know you like wild beasts," Fenrir murmured lowly, his gaze lazily resting on the woman. "Is that a command, or a request? And will this be business, or pleasure?" he said, attention turning to the object she'd been working on. Fen let Dora pull him closer, noting the look in her eyes that told him she was still focused on magic. "Is there anything I can do to help finish it off?"

Amber hues pulled away from the clock placed on the stone, that looked more like a table, to the direction of Fenrir who was closing the distance between them. That is when she realised that she had not set up her wards to warn her of others close by. She had been too eager to further replicate what happened earlier. That was a mishap on her side.

"Perhaps I like wild." The corners of her mouth turn into a coy smirk. The lack of fear that consumed Pandora would concern others, but for herself, she embraced it to her advantage. "Then you will be mine for the night." She was eager to see if she could get the same reaction she did with Bellatrix with the spells she had manipulated, already twisting the threads to strengthen the new spell. Absentmindedly the witch bridges the gap and reaches for his hand to pull him over to the object. "I wish you could see what I do. It was so close to working earlier. I need this to work. "