Hadriana Potter and Mother Magic: Betrayals Chapter 1

Chapter 15

Fenrir Greyback was a suspicious man by nature. He had to be, what with him being a werewolf. He always had been. His mother and father had both been bitten wolves, and he had been born one. All his life he was glanced suspiciously at feared by anyone and everyone.

The unprejudiced, small magical school for magical beings in Salem, Massachusetts had accepted he and his younger sister. Hogwarts back then didn’t accept werewolves or vampires into their classes. Bigoted bastards. He and his sister, Lupa, had enjoyed their time at the Salem Academy. There were no suspicious glances, no fear and terror. He and Lupa made friends and even had partners, but once he graduated, he was shown just how bad the Wizarding World at large could treat magical creatures they deemed dark and unsafe.

Lyall Lupin, the Greyback's neighbour in Ireland, had been one of the worst. One full moon when the Greyback family had been running safely under the moon, all of them have warded the woods in which they roamed; plus, being a born wolf meant that Fenrir and Lupa had actual control of their wolves. Their parents had a modicum of control, too, having been wolves the majority of their lives. But Lupin hadn’t cared. He’d taken his buckshot shotgun in hand and fired.

Lupa hadn’t survived the hit, and Fenrir had been beyond enraged. Lupa hadn’t hurt a fly in her life. She was gentle, quiet, and kind. She’d only been seventeen, her head blown off because of a prejudiced wizard.

Fenrir's parents had confronted Lupin, but he’d played dumb. Said he thought Lupa had been a fox going for his chickens.

Lupin didn’t have any bloody chickens.

Lupin's wife, Hope, had been disgusted with her husband. But she was already six months pregnant. She threw her baby’s father out of the house and brought a casserole to the Greyback house two nights later, weeping and apologetic.

Fenrir's father, Jackson, had accepted her apologies. Hope Lupin was innocent, and so was her baby. Fenrir's mother Carmen helped Hope with her pregnancy and birth, expertly coaching the other woman through it. Werewolves were forced to give birth at home due to bigotry and the...violence of it.

Hope Lupin didn’t grow claws or fangs and attack anyone, but she did scream bloody murder. Carmen gently pulled Hope's baby from between her legs and dumped him in Fenrir's arms, ignoring the nineteen-year-olds terror at holding a baby so delicate. Humans were so breakable.

The fragility of humans was proved five years later. Fenrir's dad was killed by wolf hunters in the area, and he began reaching out to packs in the area. He wanted his kin protected. All wolves were family, if not pack. They began to form their pack, slowly but surely. Carmen and he kept in contact with Hope, and one day when she rushed into their home crying hysterically, Fenrir heard the woman’s broken explanation, barely.

“They say my Remus won’t reach his sixth birthday. Leukaemia.”

Fenrir, as alpha of the small, hodgepodge pack, called a meeting. He explained Hope and Remus Lupin’s circumstances, and many agreed with his decision. Hope wept on his shoulder, and Carmen tried not to guffaw at her son’s awkward expression as he gently petted her shoulder.

Remus’ body accepted the bite, and the wolf gene killed the cancerous cells in his body. Two weeks later, Lyall had returned.

Fenrir had always known that Lupin Senior was a horrendous, disgusting man. But when he obliviated his wife and sons’ memories of what truly happened, he almost tore him apart. But then Fenrir was nabbed by Lupin and his men from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures arrested Fenrir and tossed him in Azkaban for five years, the minimum sentence for wolves who bite unwilling witches and wizards.