Not Dead Yet

1991 August

Alana could barely believe what she was about to do. Perhaps, Raymond was right and she was truly losing it. Never before had she considered asking such a large favour of another. The young witch steeled herself as she slipped on her gear. First, her dragon hide boots and vest followed by her arm guards and a wand holster. Aquarius was squeezed into a side pack before she left her London home as a shadow in the night. She moved swift and silent across the landscape. It was times like this that she was grateful for the face mask which prevented her from swallowing insects.

She stopped when she reached the meeting point and casually dropped down beside Lilith Bathery from a three-story building. The well-dressed woman gave the girl a judgemental look at her method of appearance before scrutinising her clothing.

"You look like a murderer," She commented in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I am a murderer," Alana deadpanned.

"I refused to be seen with you if you're dressed like this." Lilith turned her nose up and Alana hissed. The blonde always got uppity when it came to her dress code.

"Then what, pray tell, do you expect me to wear?" Lilith's eyes gleamed with the spirit of Satan himself as she drew a small package out from her extended-bag. Every one of the younger witches' senses screamed to run away but she was glued to the spot in horror.

The outfits design wasn't what terrified her. It was actually quite nice. Had it been in any other colour, she would have gladly accepted it. But. It. Was. Yellow. A whimper crawled out from her throat as the woman pressed the fabric to her c.h.e.s.t.

"You can thank me after you change," Lilith smiled. She. Smiled. Alana was only half alive as she found a niche where she could throw up a few quick wards and change. The gothic hooded coat and skin-tight pants had her twisting a bit to put on. Unnervingly enough, all of the items fit snuggly on her. Either Lilith had scary size instincts or she had measured the girl in her sleep. Alana shivered despite the warmth of the clearly spell-woven fabric. She paused just as she was about to lower the wards and took another glance at the clothing. A feral grin began to stretch across her features.

Two minutes later, Alana reappeared fully clothed in blood red and black attire and a blank expression. Lilith pouted.

"At least it isn't all black. Have you ever considered dying your hair?"

Alana didn't grace the question with an answer.

A port key and several minutes later, both women were walking through South Downs National Park in West Suss.e.x. Alana's senses were on high alert as she accompanied the veela. She had heard stories about the place. Terrible stories that fueled the nightmares of many wizards and witches. Lilith was the personification of calmness as she poked through the foliage. Her natural grace made her seem ethereal in the moonlight. A howl went off in the distance and Alana tensed. Her reaction was a stark contrast to her attitude when facing the Apuseni coven. Back then, she hadn't had anything to lose. A snap in the distance and she was ready to attack if necessary.

"George," Lilith greeted the newcomer with a large smile and open arms. Their embrace was cut short as she whispered in the taller man's ear.

"I'll take you," The male replied evenly before turning molten eyes to Alana. "The girl as well." He turned and they followed. The forest quickly dispersed to reveal an old lake-side manor with a smattering of tents surrounding it. Alana could hear the sounds of laughter and conversation from the tent ground but it was too far off to see anyone. The trio entered the building and were escorted to a large game room. A pool table, dartboard, couches and bar took up the majority of space. About nine people in total lounged in the room, each with a glass in their hands. Their entrance didn't go unnoticed especially when Lilith strutted up to the alpha male of the room and greeted him by running a finger rather suggestively down his b.a.r.e c.h.e.s.t.

"Good evening, Fenrir. So nice of you to have us," She purred. Alana almost vomited blood. Why couldn't she have sane colleagues?! Was it so much to ask?! Fenrir Greyback, the most renowned werewolf alpha of Britain, merely sent the veela an accommodating smile. His sharp teeth bared themselves and his features shifted to frame them.

"You are always welcome, Lily. So long as you don't bring trouble," He warned with gold eyes glittering. The skin of his face was rough with worry lines above his brow. The werewolf's age could be seen in the long, greying hair that fell to his shoulders and the messy beard he wore. He was by no means attractive but seemed to make up for it in charisma. Alana remained rooted to her spot praying that Lilith hadn't forgotten about her. It was both relieving and panic-inducing when Lilith gestured for her to come closer. Alana forced her limbs to move in their natural fashion and resisted the urge to whip out a dagger.

"Fenrir, may I introduce my dear friend Sparrow." Lilith wrapped her arm around Fenrir's shoulder and Alana wondered how the man could stand to let such a dangerous woman so close to his vulnerable back. Fenrir was eyeing Alana up like a rare meat dish as he leaned forward. He inhaled sharply and she was once again grateful for her earrings.

"What are you, child?" He asked with keen eyes. She narrowed her own and drew up her occlumency shields to quell the raging sea that was her emotions. Fenrir Greyback was known to hate wizards without creature ancestry and for some reason, she doubted the rumours were exaggerated.

"It depends on what my employers want," She replied smoothly. Lilith grinned and let out a tinkling laugh. It was truly fortunate her allure didn't work on werewolves or half the room would be drooling at the sound. Fenrir scoffed at the pretty reply, unamused. He motioned for her to come closer and she arched a brow as she complied. Gesturing a known assassin to come closer was generally inadvisable to those who cared for their health. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down a bit. Their faces were about five centimetres apart when he held her still. She blinked. Perhaps, it was the occlumency speaking, but he had very pretty eyes. They were ch.i.p.s of silver surrounded by a dark ring.

"Vampires," The man spat the word and she recoiled on reflex. "I knew I smelt something off."

Alana winced at the hatred in his voice. She knew most vampires, including Otavio Russo, were not exactly on amicable terms with the children of the moon. Her brain scrambled for a way to save the situation.

"Alive or dead?" She inquired with a curious tone.

His head snapped up immediately. "What?"

"I don't make the distinction of race in my targets," She stated. 'Let them think what they want.' The insinuation of her words was true as the Romanian coven had been her target at some point. The Apuseni vampires had essentially paid a hiring fee. Fenrir was giving her a sharp stare and gripping his armrests. He took a gulp of his drink.

"What do you want?" He growled without any anger.

"I have an unregistered werewolf needing a pack." Her reply was short and to the point. She needed a pack for Jake's father, Christian, and Greyback's was the largest and most stable in Britain. Fenrir's reputation was a shambles but aside from his closest, his pack was squeaky clean. It was the best she could do. Fenrir folded his arms pensively. A few of the other wolves in the room had turned to watch the ongoings with mild curiosity.

"In exchange?"

"I have the formula for Wolfsbane."

Alana relaxed some when she saw the surrounding werewolves perk up in interest. Lilith, who hadn't pried on what Alana wanted from her connections, also flicked her eyes in her direction. The potion was hardly perfect but it would be useful to the pack.

"Bring the wolf to the next moon and we'll see how they fare. The formula will need to be tested as well."

"That's no problem."

1991 August

Mr Matthews seemed to have aged decades since Alana last saw him. His dark hair was receding at a rapid pace, his attire was in shambles and his hands shook with every movement. Guilt somehow wormed its way into her gut even though she refused to believe she played any part in his deterioration. It was lycanthropy. She wondered how long the man had had it. She recalled his monthly disappearances as a child with far more suspicion than she used to.

The process of convincing both men to accompany her to Greyback's pack was long and arduous. Neither were willing to leave their lives to move to Suss.e.x to which she had responded by explaining that the pack offered timed portkeys to its members. It was one of the many reasons she had chosen them. Fenrir had the support of many magical werewolves and was a reputed half-blood himself. His skill with a wand had won him favour and the protection of the dark lord in the last wizarding war.

They had caved eventually to her insistence and the group had travelled there in time for the full moon. Raymond had been disapproving of her increased relations with the wolves but she dismissed him as the interaction was, in truth, long overdue considering her contact with the vampire coven. His protests were based on personal circ.u.mstances so they were invalid and he knew it. He had been a lone werewolf for so long that he could no longer adjust to the pack life. Thus, it was no surprise that he tended to avoid Greyback's group.

The night air was crisp and she anticipated a clear sky for the full moon. It was perfect for a hunt but she would not have the luxury of joining this one. One of Fenrir's Betas greeted them on the path and they were shown to the Alpha with little preamble. The eerie golden glow of werewolf eyes was inconcealable so close to the full moon. Fenrir looked ready to bite into Jake when he saw the wizard. Fortunately, he backed down when Christian growled in response to the clear intent. He didn't want his son to go through the same ordeal he did every month.

"He is your son. Do you not want him to join your pack?" The annoyance was clear in the leader's voice but Mr Matthews stood firm. It seemed that he had not changed as much as she had first thought.

"It will be his choice and his choice alone," He replied.

"After I graduate," Jake interrupted and both males had snapped their heads toward him at the same time. "It will be easier that way," The teen finished. The alpha nodded with satisfaction while Christian looked as though he wanted to argue. It was clear they hadn't discussed the topic. Alana cast the young boy a look. He had to already know the discrimination he would face as a werewolf and yet he was willing to part with his privileges for his father. She was once again reminded of the younger boy who had offered her friendship.

Fenrir was far less hasty to eat the young boy now that Jake had expressed his intent. In a word, he was 'civil' with both of the non-werewolves present. It was fragile toleration of their presence as he informed Mr Matthews of the way things worked during the full-moon. Alana and Jake both made their way inside where the witch threw up a few wards to mask their scent and sound. The building already had wards up but she was hesitant to give them her full trust. She knew the night would be a long one so she took a seat and brought out one of her more interesting books. Jake eyed her warily after the display of magic but soon settled himself in his own seat where he fiddled with the hem of his shirt anxiously.

"Is he safe?" The question came about thirty minutes in and snapped her out of her reading. She lifted her gaze for a few seconds to answer him.

"He will be fine. Greyback knows what he's doing."

"Greyback bites children for fun."

"I wouldn't take the Daily Prophet as gospel."

"It's not just the Prophet."

"Did he come across as the type to bite children randomly to you? Do you think he would endanger his pack for one extra member?"

"..."

She considered the conversation. She was somewhat surprised to find that she had answered honestly when her reply had only meant to comfort the boy. She didn't believe the rumours, or rather, she believed them to be half-baked truths. It was hard to imagine the man throwing himself at babies to make more werewolves when he was so utterly disgusted by anyone who wasn't one. If anything, she'd expect him to want to keep lycanthropy within his pack and their family. Maybe he'd use it to make an example of someone on the rare occasion. She knew that Greyback's pack did a bit of smuggling in their spare time and did commit the odd murder. Perhaps, he wanted to extend the rights of his pack by changing wizards like the prophet said but she couldn't imagine him tearing into wizarding children. Then again, she could just be too naive to see the truth.

Edited 25.10.2019