Sighing Longingly At Nick's Words, Cassie Thought That Perhaps She Was Long Overdue A Proper Vacation.

“if you could only see the beast you made of me"

(cw: death, discussion of injury)

𝖇 𝖆 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈

NAME: Fenrir Ulrik Greyback NICKNAMES: Fen AGE: 34 GENDER: Cis Male PRONOUNS: He/Him

𝖋 𝖆 𝖒 𝖎 𝖑 𝖞

MOTHER: Freya Greyback nee Macnair FATHER: Anders Greyback SIBLINGS: n/a

CHILDREN: Magnus Greyback

𝖕 𝖍 𝖞 𝖘 𝖎 𝖈 𝖆 𝖑 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊𝖘

FACE CLAIM: Aaron Taylor-Johnson BUILD: Tall, stocky, particularly hairy. HAIR COLOR: Dark brown. EYE COLOR: Deep blue. DOMINANT HAND: Right. ANOMALIES: Scarring on his neck from the werewolf bite, scars on his back and his arms from claws. FASHION: Generally a bit thrown together, with clothes that are a bit patchy. NERVOUS TICS: Fenrir does not get nervous.

𝖑 𝖎 𝖋 𝖊 𝖘 𝖙 𝖞 𝖑 𝖊

RESIDES: A countryside cottage in the Cotswolds, backing onto acres of woodland BORN:  Greyback family home, Norway RAISED:  Greyback family home, Norway PETS: n/a.

CAREER: Chef EMPLOYER: The White Wyvern POLITICAL AFFILIATION: Unmarked Death Eater

DRUGS: Occasionally. SMOKES: Occasionally. ALCOHOL: Fenrir likes a deep red wine, or a smokey whiskey. DIET: Red meat heavy, usually on the rarer side.

LANGUAGES: English, Norwegian.

𝖒 𝖆 𝖌 𝖎 𝖈

ALUMNI HOUSE: Home-schooled. WAND (length, flexibility, wood, & core): 13 and one quarter inches, Elm wood, unicorn tail hair core, flexible. PATRONUS: Unable to cast. BOGGART: A version of himself that is not a werewolf, a weaker being.

BIO:

Fenrir Ulrik Greyback was born in Norway to Anders and Freya Greyback, where he resided for the early years of his life. As a child, he was curious and inquisitive and spent a lot of time outside. He loved exploring the natural world, and particularly enjoyed nights when the auroras were strong and his mother would get him bundled into a snowsuit and take him out for a walk to experience the lights. His parents were wizards, but this was a natural magic and he found it fascinating. It was one such evening where a full moon shone amongst the auroras, and neither Fenrir or Freya heard the noise of a werewolf approaching them before the beast was already upon them. It attacked Fenrir first, sinking large teeth into his neck with claws shredding at his skin. He doesn’t remember anything beyond that until he woke up in the hospital with his father by his side, looking older than he ever had before. His mother was gone, having died being attacked whilst trying to pull the werewolf away from Fenrir.

Family life was never quite the same again. With Freya gone, all joy seemed to be sapped from Anders. Fenrir’s life shrunk to being home-schooled by Anders who was terrified that his son’s condition would get out if he was sent to a proper school, and the whole family would be shunned. His father stopped talking to others about Fenrir’s existence immediately, and though Fenrir never realised, he had modified the healers memories so they believed he had died with Freya. Anders told Fenrir that his condition was something to be ashamed of, something to dread. Gradually, Fenrir began to resent his treatment. Each full moon bought a newer bitterness, and as he grew up, his wolfish side began to grow stronger. As a pup, he’d found enough room to roam around the cellar that he was locked in – but with each passing month, and each passing year, he longed to be free at the full moon.

When Fenrir was fifteen, the pair relocated to Scotland where Anders was due to take up a ministry job. On the first full moon since they moved, Fenrir broke free from his bonds and killed his father. When he awoke the following morning, he was several miles away from their home in a forest, and another man was standing over him. The other man was in a similar state to Fenrir, skin torn and grey, and he offered Fenrir a hand of friendship. It was the first time he’d met another werewolf in their human form, and life was then forever changed. For the next few years, Fenrir hardly touched his wand at all. Fenrir’s disappearance from public life in Norway had done him favours, and nobody knew Fenrir had entered Britain with his father. A quick trip home to gather his belongings and transfigure his father’s body into a stick with the guidance of the older wizard, and Fenrir finally found a pack of werewolves to call family. What the ministry made of Anders disappearance, Fenrir neither knew nor cared.

For the next few years, Fenrir hardly touched his wand at all. He grew into a fully fledged werewolf, unashamed of his condition. With each passing month his power grew, and so did his thirst for blood. No longer was his father holding him back, and instead he had a pack that encouraged him to embrace his true nature. At seventeen years old, Fenrir had risen in importance amongst their pack and he had started to gain a reputation for himself as a vicious, blood-thirsty beast. He got confident and cocky in his own abilities as a beast, until he murdered two muggle children and was brought before the Ministry of Magic for questioning the following morning.

Relying on his Norwegian upbringing, and the fact he had not attended Hogwarts as a child, Fenrir played dumb. He feigned ignorance of the English language and asked the ministry workers to repeat their questions many times until he understood. His wand had been left at home because of the full moon so there was no evidence that he was a magical being, and he pretended that he had did not know of the existence of wizards. One ministry member, Lyall Lupin, identified the tell-tale scars on Fenrir's neck and tried insisting that he be held until the full moon to see if he transformed, but the rest of the ministry committee did not see value in this to Fenrir's delight. As they were releasing Fenrir, Lyall had spat that Fenrir, and all werewolves, were soulless, evil and deserving of nothing but death. Fenrir hid his rage, but vowed revenge on the man for his prejudice.

Biding his time, Fenrir spent a few months quietly watching Lyall Lupin until he discovered where the other man lived. Then it was simply a matter of waiting for the right time until he attacked the young Remus Lupin, biting him deeply to ensure that he became infected with lycanthropy. Lyall arrived quickly enough, but still too late. The deed was done - Remus had been intentionally infected, and it gave Fenrir a taste of what was to come.

In the following years, Fenrir carefully started to integrate himself into wizarding society. Fenrir works as a chef at the White Wyvern, a position that suits him well. His employers don't question Fenrir dictating his working hours around the full moon, and working in a kitchen means that he doesn't have to be seen by anyone other than his co-workers. He has started actively practicing magic again, particularly the dark arts, though he still prefers to rely on his natural brawny strength in a fight than his magical ability.

As the tension continues to build for the war, Fenrir has found a place amongst the Death Eaters, where he is more than happy to do their dirty work as long as it gives him access to further potential victims. Voldemort's refusal to offer Fenrir the dark mark has rubbed Fenrir the wrong way, and he sees the way the other Death Eaters look at him as lesser yet he bides his time. He has continued to rise amongst his pack, eventually killing his former mentor and taking his place as the leader of the pack. Their mission is to infect as many humans as possible, with the dream of creating a werewolf army that could eventually challenge wizards for dominance in society.

Whilst bringing more wolves into the pack that Fenrir leads, he grew close to a half-blood werewolf named Nancy Edwards. The pair were together for several years, and as the result of a few drunken, reckless nights, they had a son together called Magnus. Fenrir and Nancy are no longer together romantically, but they are amicably raising Magnus together. Magnus is also a werewolf, having inherited the condition by virtue of both of his parents being true lycanthropes. Fenrir is proud of his now five year old son, and is raising him with virtues that he believes will make him a strong future leader of a pack.

Kingsley had spent much of the day hunched over his desk, trying to finish off the paperwork that he had foolishly let build up. It was easy to throw himself into the field and then to come back to the floor and throw himself head first into the next case, but the office had processes and policies and 'if you don't file that paperwork, Shacklebolt, we're going to have issues'. Fuelled with coffee that he had recharmed to keep refilling itself, Kingsley had kept his head down and ignored the noise of the office as he made a firm dent in the piles of case work.

Just as he put the finishing notes on the final piece of paperwork, a welcome presence appeared right before his eyes and Kingsley shot his friend a small grin. "Long day? You look like shit, brother. Firewhiskey at Rosmerta's will sort you out. I've just finished up, just need to file these," he explained, tapping the pile of parchment with his wand. Watching as the pages shot away to be filed, Kings stood and reached for his jacket. "Let's get out of here, I'm tired of these four walls."

where: the ministry who: @battle-scvrs

It had been a long day and Edgar was finally returning to the Ministry after the nightmare he had gone through with the wizard he was sent out to. He tossed his robes on the back of his chair, slightly annoyed that there was still an hour left before he could officially leave.

Making his way through the floor, he noticed that Alastor was gone, but he did catch sight of Kingsley, weaving around a couple more desk before plopping down in the chair at the front of his friend's desk.

"I could really use a drink after work, tell me you are free to join me." Edgar glances over, not too worried that he interrupted his friend making a few notes on parchment.

No matter how hard he tried, Regulus knew that he was a disappointment. He knew that his parents wished that Sirius was still here over Regulus, because he was the stronger of the two boys. He knew that Bellatrix believed Sirius would have made a better Death Eater, and privately, he agreed. The further they got into this war, the more obvious it was becoming to Regulus that this was not the right path for him. Torture turned his stomach, he couldn't cast a strong unforgivable to save his life, and Regulus didn't dare to think about his changing opinions on blood purity in Bellatrix's presence. Even with his occlumency firmly in place, Regulus didn't dare to think even a single thought about Caradoc Dearborn. He had a sinking feeling that whatever Bellatrix had called him here for could not be good, and it was not merely a friendly catch up.

Holding his cup tightly in his hands, Regulus was about to lift the drink to his lips when Bella dropped her spoon and he flinched again. Trying to brush it off, Regulus leaned back into his chair with a practiced air of casual nonchalance. He was, after all, a pureblood. He had been acting his whole life, and though Bellatrix had keen eyes and an iron-clad will, Regulus would not let his cousin trip him up.

"He is more than adequate, he is great. You are the best, and I know you are - you and I both know that. But you are too important to the cause to busy yourself with my inability to cast lasting unforgivables. Let Rabastan deal with that, while you honour the Dark Lord," he said, playing on Bella's absolute devotion. He held her gaze firmly, not wanting to shy away from it no matter the fact he felt she may be piercing into his very soul. "Cousin, I cannot ask that of you," he protested again, before Bellatrix revealed the true reason for her owl. "Ah, so you and Rabastan have been gossiping about me," he said, his tone holding a hint of fury. "That was supposed to be private. It was fine, Rab dealt with it. They didn't even come close to hitting me, because the Order are shit. They are unruly and undisciplined, they have no hope," he said, setting the cup of tea down so firmly that some splashed over the side onto the saucer. "Whether or not I die is nothing to do with you, Bella. You have done your best, but I need you to respect my wishes. I do not want you to teach me." He didn't have the stomach for whatever Bellatrix's teaching would look like, and he knew it. "I appreciate the offer, I do. Truly."

A little fear did wonders - in everyone, not just her enemies. Friends and family were treated equally to her charming personality, though they benefitted from her loyalty and never-ceasing protection, as smothering as it could sometimes be. These days, Bellatrix was acutely aware of the effect she had on those dearest to her. She was fuelled by a desperation to bind them to herself, outraged by both Sirius and Andromeda and the hurt they had ripped through the Black family - through her. So she clung to Cissy and Regulus, trying her hardest to make their lives both worthwhile and worthy. Yet she knew that this approach was not always welcome, and that it had pushed Regulus elsewhere. She was truly and wholeheartedly trying to temper her behaviour. But it was not easy to moderate Bellatrix Lestrange. The witch was too unruly even for herself.

Scoffing at his statement on avoidance, she dropped a few sugar lumps into her cup and stirred it. The spoon swished silently, avoiding the delicate china surround with fine-tuned accuracy. Then it clattered down onto the saucer, undoing all of her careful attention to avoiding jarring noises - speaking of which, while she would ordinarily and happily have soaked up compliments, in this instance she saw right through them. So she raised her cup to her lips and took an indulgent gulp, her eyes remaining centred on him all the while. She did not miss his grimace.

"You deserve more than 'adequate', Regulus. You are the last of the Black heirs. You deserve the best." Her stare was truly like a pair of daggers, sharpened and primed to carve her message home. Sirius was a waste of space and she would not permit Regulus to become the same. He would be great, even if she had to drag him through fire and brimstone to get him there herself. And oh, how she hated Sirius for bringing this fate into Regulus's life. Sirius should have been the Death Eater. She was not a fool - she knew Regulus was not truly suited to it. But it was now his duty and he must fulfil it. They all had duties. He was not exempt. "I will help you. You cannot freeze during battles, cousin. You could have been killed. If that had happened-" She paused, hesitating over her words in the most uncharacteristic manner. Then she continued, practically slicing the words across her tongue, reluctant to express their truthful sentimentality. "I would never have forgiven myself."

Since Lucius had settled himself in front of her and remained unmoved, Cassie had practically been waiting for him to ask for her healing services. "I'll send you my contracts and my pricing via owl when I get home. With how difficult pregnancy can be, I will be on call whenever either of you need me," Cassie assured him, though that of course would come with a hefty price - one she was certain the Malfoy vaults could spare. "Lots of protein and calcium. I have a list at home of some recommended dishes to meet the intake, I can send you that as well. It just helps promote Narcissa's health, and healthy growth of the baby," she mused, pulling some parchment from her bag to scribble down a list of things she needed to send Lucius. "Keeping your wife happy while she grows your child is probably the best thing you can do for your ongoing health. Massages, anything strange she's craving, sensitive gestures...it will mean a lot," Cassie said with a small grin.

They were in the process of find a suitable healer and Cassie Borgin came to mind. "I have spoken to my wife, and we would like you to be our healer." With her reputation, she could be trusted, her family a long history within the cause. Lucius listened carefully to what she had to say and nodded his head. "Is there a list I should be giving them?" He wanted to make sure this was done correctly. "I can give massages." He could try at least. "This is all note worthy information."

Having already sent an owl to warn of her impending arrival, Cassie had apparated across to Val's at 7pm on the dot. She had two bottles of wine in her bag along with a box of chocolates, and as soon as she apparated into her friend's home she threw herself down on the couch. "I brought wine!" she called loudly, wondering whereabouts in the house Val was. @valeria-flint

"Perhaps it is you that lacks manners, Carrow. You come into my home making demands of my time, and to use my fireplace...not once have I heard a please. Oh, I wouldn't concern yourself too much with my pack. The Dark Lord seems pleased with us...or are you questioning our leaders judgment?" he asked, daring her to challenge the Dark Lord himself.

Though Alecto had tried to bite back her disdain at his casual show, Fenrir knew it had irked her and he smirked. "You couldn't pay me any amount of money in the world to get involved in all of your pureblood society bullshit. I am perfectly happy where I am. If you touch this home where my son resides, you will regret it," he said, gaze hardening. "I take threats to this place very seriously. You will understand when your children arrive...do not test me again."

Fenrir continued lounging against his couch, though his brain was ticking away. "So what are you looking for exactly? Someone to depose Angus? Or are you looking for blackmail?"

"If a leader lacks manner's does that mean the rest of the pack does? This could be concerning." Alecto states in a mocking tone. The witch was certain if they did prove to be unruly that the Dark Lord would lose interest in them and perhaps they could all be put down.

Her body shifts in his direction, keeping from rolling her eyes at his unprofessionalism. "Is that jealousy I hear, Greyback?" A small pause. "I don't blame you, however, if you truly desire the caves, I'm sure we can have it arranged for you." A insidious smirk twisting on her features.

Now that had reached business and she sat up a little straighter. "We have an alliance with him, but something about him irks me." More so, how he continued to hit on her their last visit.

Reg's shoulders tensed at Alecto's expression, almost curling in on himself to prepare for the agony that he felt was incoming. It wouldn't be the first time someone he liked and trusted had used the cruciatus on him, nor would it be the last. The pain didn't come though, and slowly the tension left his muscles. Nodding at her word of caution, Reg shot her a small grin - one of fondness, not of teasing. "Lesson learned. Don't poke the bear."

"I think if you were to turn me into some sort of other creature that might please my parents more than the person I am currently," he muttered, bitterness seeping into his tone. "I wouldn't mind tea if the elves can prepare a pot."

Her eyes narrow at him when he starts to mimic knitting, tempted to send a wave of pain throughout his body in warning, letting the thought fade when he lifted his hands up in surrender. He was family in a sense and wished to keep the little of the Black's that were left, close. "I am going to let you speak, be wise what you say." Her hand waves to remove the spell.

"I am not in the mood for trying my patience. Let's have a visit that won't have you turned into a vile creature." That was pregnant Alecto being nice. "Did you wish for something to drink?"

Regardless of the way that this might end, Fenrir wanted to give it a shot. They'd been exclusive for a while in all but name, and it felt good to seal the deal. There was still much to consider, especially how he would introduce Magnus to the Pandora given he didn't know if this would end after a year. He didn't want his son getting too attached if the other woman was to leave again, but equally this was war and there was no guarantee that they would even make it to the end of the next year, or what the world would look like then they got to that point.

The incident with the clock had dragged up feelings that Fenrir had thought were long buried, and the whiskey mixed with the sleepiness of the end of Christmas day had made him melancholic. "My father...he took all the joy of Christmas away. As a young adult, suddenly free and learning how to be part of a pack, I didn't celebrate Christmas. I just took myself away for the day, spent all day hiking with a flask of whiskey. Now, for my boy, I want everything to be perfect. I never want him to feel the way I felt. I want him to feel the magic of Christmas, and to never doubt that he has a father who loves him with his whole heart," he breathed, knowing that any love his father may have had for him had disappeared the moment Fenrir had been saved but Freya had not.

Once the necklace was around Pandora's neck, Fenrir traced the delicate chain with his finger before cupping her cheeks as she kissed him. Opening the offered box, Fenrir touched the leather bracelets gently, almost astounded at her thoughtfulness. He slipped the bracelet intended for him over his wrist, leaving the one for Magnus still in the box. "Thank you. It's so thoughtful. Nobody's ever given me anything like this."

There were many factors when it came to what this would be like between them, but Pandora was willing to take the risk and see where this could go. There was no rush and she wanted to live in this feeling he made her feel. With the war slowly growing, they were not always guaranteed a tomorrow. All she had was now and that was what she would focus on. Fate kept pulling her towards him and she refused to push.

Any chance Fenrir would talk about his past, the way he grew up, learning recently the truth about his father, she would listen intently, wanting to drink it all in. "Magnus will know joy. You and Nancy give him that. He is a lucky boy who have two parents that love him. You are breaking all these barriers that were thrown at you." A softness to her tone, taking the moment where they could open up to each other, leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.

She didn't waste time to open the present, the necklace beautiful and seeing that it was a crescent moon, it would be a reminder that he was always there with her when they could not be together. "It's beautiful, Fen." She places it around her neck, giving him another kiss. "I have something for you and Magnus." Pandora summons a small box from her bag, holding it out for him. "I wanted to give you piece of mind." She waits until he opens the box, pulling out two bracelets. "They are enchanted with a tracker and a small protection charm. That way you always know where he is. It's my own magic. Spells I made."

The tone of his cousin's voice broke through Regulus' rambling worries, and he looked up at her. Regardless of her affirmations, Regulus would carry regret for the way he had treated her for the rest of his life. "I was just a boy, trying to make his parents proud," he said quietly. "You left, then Sirius left, and they were determined nobody else would leave. The pressure, merlin...it was constant, unbearable. And that's just my parents, that's not even considering Bella," he breathed, still incredibly confused and conflicted about his feelings for the intense witch. Picking up his cup of tea, Regulus took a long sip, hoping the warmth would settle him somehow. "Oh, me too. A visit from my parents would ruin my whole week," he said, with a small smile.

It was the first time he'd been able to voice his concerns to someone who he hoped would listen without judgment. He could have talked to Caradoc, but he hadn't wanted to burden the other man with all of this when whatever they had was still new and precious to him. "Bella will kill me. If she doesn't, my parents will. You and Sirius were bad enough....but for me to be marked, to have been on the 'right path' and to still leave? They won't let that stand. It's an embarrassment, I'm an embarrassment," his voice was small and sad. He truly could only see one way that this ended - it was just a matter of how much time he could steal before it happened. "I can't see a way out of this...but if I don't, the war will kill me anyway. I froze up in battle the other day, having a panic attack behind my mask. I couldn't stand to see another person die by my hand."

A fond smile tugged at his lips as he thought more about Caradoc, and he offered Andromeda a soft shrug of his shoulders. "It just kinda happened. I didn't know his blood status when it started, and then I realised...it's the least interesting part of him. I understand a lot more now than I did before."

"Regulus..." Andromeda didn't mean to sound stern as she said his name, but she didn't want him to be reliving everything he thought he had done wrong. "You've never been cruel, the family cut me off for my choices and I understand why you did so as well. Trust me, I know just how easy it is to just go with their decisions. To not question what they're telling you, if it weren't for Ted I'd likely be following in Bellatrix's footsteps." She feigned a shudder at the thought, though the idea certainly was a terrifying one. As he explained that the house was strongly warded she felt herself relax more. She didn't think it was a trap, but one never knew when family might pop in for a visit out of nowhere. "I won't lie, I'm relieved to know my estranged family won't be stopping by." A small laugh, trying to lighten the situation.

Her heart ached as Regulus explained what was going on, how much he was struggling. She'd had an inkling that things were not going well the last time she'd seen him. He deserved happiness, a life that he chose just like she and Sirius had. And to know that he was marked, that this was the path his family had put him on. Pain for him and anger at her family warred within her. "Listen to me Reg....there is always time to change things. You don't have to keep doing this." She squeezed his hand gently. "We can get you out of it, we can figure it out. This doesn't have to be your life. She assured him, her eyes meeting his. "You are not just a spare to me and you never were. You're my family, and no matter what I am by your side. If you want to get out of their ranks we can figure out how to do it."

A moment's pause before a small smile rose to her lips. "Now on another note, a muggle guy is it? Perhaps now you understand why I made the choices I did?"

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there, Become so tired, so much more aware. I'm becoming this, all I want to do, Is be more like me and be less like you.

@battle-scvrs