Author's note: Yeah, I write a lot of these pointless Fenrir fanfictions, but it's storming outside. I was in the mood for something creepy... Character telling the story is my own. I'll make up more about her in other writings.

Disclaimer: I do not any of the Harry Potter characters. All belong to J.K Rowling.

I woke with fear, eyes wide open in the darkness. A thin layer of sweat coated my body and my heart beat in my chest. Only one thing could've done this.

I wrenched out of bed and hurried down the hall, pulling open the nursery door. Greeted by silence, I tiptoed into the room and peeked at the little crib next to the window. A little mound with turquoise hair, rising and falling softly, told me that little Teddy was sleeping soundly.

So it was only a dream… I thought, sold relief gripping me. As vivid as the nightmare had been, it could've been real. I didn't know why I was so jumpy, though. Dreams couldn't hurt me- or Teddy.

But werewolves could.

If it was true that Voldemort had recruited werewolves to his side, then I had everything to fear. I glanced back at the sleeping boy. Remus Lupin, Teddy's father, had been a werewolf, though he was very different from the norm. I knew the late father wouldn't have ever hurt a thing on purpose. But I could imagine another. The one from my dreams: Fenrir Greyback.

He was the beast that had inflicted Lupin with Lycanthropy, causing him a lifetime of troubles and suffering. I was glad he and his wife lay safe, where nothing could hurt them anymore.

He was the most savage werewolf in all of Britain. His army was vast, expanding past the dense forests and into the mountains. The man murdered for the pleasure of it and preyed on anyone that got in his way. Particularly children. I knew just how terrible Greyback was.

Because I'd met him.

Absently touching the scar on my right shoulder, I headed down the stairs. It was no use trying to sleep now. The dream had shaken me, gotten me nervous and wound up. Even with all of the magic placed over the house, and the Order just a fireplace or two away, I couldn't help but tense.

I grabbed a quilt from the linens closet and padded quietly into the living room. Andromeda wouldn't be returning until morning. I thought about telling the older woman about my dreams, but decided against it. I didn't want a spot waiting for me in St. Mungo's. I wasn't crazy.

I fell into the thick, plush armchair next to fireplace and lit the grate gingerly. In a moment, the room was bathed in tender warmth. I curled up comfortably under the blanket and gazed through the living room's window, to the star-strewn sky outside.

Less than a year ago, it'd happened…

The forest was dark, the thin, dead trees serving as bars to a prison cell. They played tricks on my eyes, pressing the illusion that someone was there, waiting in the shadows. I blinked too many times, stumbling on rocks and dead, fallen branches.

"Accio wand," I muttered, and my fallen wand resurfaced in the dark. I caught hold of it and muttered a spell. The space around me was immediately bathed in a soft, silver glow. My heart steadied a bit.

I'd ran into the forest, ignorant and alone. Scared. My base instincts had only told me to take refuge in the closest place possible. But regrettably, not the safest.

There was the sound of a twig snapping and not a second later, I'd hit something hard. Or something had hit me. The breath was stolen from my lungs but I managed to keep hold of my wand. I cast a quick spell at the man in front of me, but with a wave of his arm, he'd blocked it too easily. It was dark again and all that I saw of him was a tall, thick silhouette. It only took that one moment of faltering and then he'd disarmed me. My wand flew hopelessly out of reach and I was sent to the ground. He'd hit me.

My head spun, but I heard gravelly breathing above me. It was rough, jagged. Hungry.

A heavy boot connected with my ribs and my mouth opened in a silent scream. In a moment, he'd dropped to my level, crouching over me. I thought instantly of a wolf preying over a helpless lamb.

I was too right.

"Hello, sweet…" he rasped, face only an outline in the darkness. His voice was scratchy, like he'd eaten a few concrete bricks or inhaled large quantities of cigar smoke. Through my fear, I was able to make out his features. Thick eyebrows, silver-streaked hair, and a strong jaw. Beyond his chapped lips, I saw what confirmed his nature: long, pointed canines.

I could only breath in reply, terrified that I'd just been captured by a werewolf.

"You know who I am, girly?" he questioned, a smile in his voice.

I shook my head, incapable of speech.

"Mmm…" he breathed, voice husky as he leaned to my throat, "You will…"

"Stop," I choked, voice shaking, "Please…"

He paused in his mouth's descent, and then pulled back to look me in the eye. He chuckled, "So you can talk? Mmm… this makes it much more interesting."

He licked his lips slowly, intentionally.

"I usually don't spend this much time chatting," he rasped, "Too many victims to attend to, but… your awfully good-looking. I wouldn't want to waste you in just a few mouthfuls."

"Where is Lupin?" I asked, the memory of the kind man erasing some of my fear, "And Tonks?"

The question rolled off my tongue clearly. If I was right, then I already knew who this man was. And it made the situation so much worse.

"Ah," he said, cocking an eyebrow, "Your mean the cub and his lovely wife? Doesn't concern me. Now-"

"I know who you are," I cut him off. His grip on me tightened, stretching the fabric on the front of my blouse.

"You do, do ya?" he asked, pleasure lining his tone, "Mmm, so you've heard about the Big Bad Wolf?"

"I know what you've done," I said. I didn't know where this conversation would go. I just knew that I had to stall for time. Seconds, minutes, it didn't matter. I didn't want to die.

He chuckled, "Frightens you, doesn't it, sweetheart?"

"No."

He raised a thick eyebrow.

"It disgusts me."

He raised his head to laugh. It echoed through the silent woods, loud and clear. "You're a brave one…" he breathed, sliding a thumb lovingly over my collarbone, to the hollow of my neck, "But I smell your fear, sweet. You've never dealt with a bad guy like this before."

I laughed then, gaining courage that I didn't feel. It seemed to have conjured itself out of thin air, "Your just a greedy coward," I said, "Working under a scum of a man that's only using your race to get what he wants. How pathetic."

He laughed softly, "I liked that, love… you're a fun one, I'll say. It almost makes me regret killing you."

He lowered his mouth once more, teeth bared…

I jerked awake, sitting straight up in the chair I'd fallen asleep in, my breathing heavy. The memories of the terrifying night faded. I could still feel his lips on my skin.

It was dark; the fire had died away in my slumber. I threw the quilt off, sweating, and stood up. My muscles ached as I walked, probably from being scrunched together in the chair. I entered the kitchen and flipped on the light. It flickered on, warm yellow light spilling over the man at the table. He had his legs propped up, arms behind his head, as if intending to stay a while. He turned his head at my entrance, as though just noticing I was standing there in my nightgown, pale as the full moon outside.

Fenrir Greyback grinned ferociously, "Hullo, tasty. Remember me?"