Fragmented Soul: The Furry Bits

Bitten

Here is a Furry bits chapter to tie you all over until next week's new chapter for the main story.

12th June 1982

Chloe was sat on the patio having afternoon cup of tea, enjoying the peace and quiet. The sun was shining brilliantly strong, warming her olive skin with its rays. It was a glorious day and she was taking full advantage of it as she stared out on to the magnificent garden that she took such pride in. Not that she dirtied her hands with such work, but she admired the excellent job that her gardener had done.

The house had been given to her as a gift, one of the perks of being a mistress of a powerful wizard, and the grounds that came attached to her lover's second home stretched out until they hit woodland a hundred or so yards away. She could hear the birds chirping in the trees around her, but she was currently watching the tree line closely, unsure if she really had seen something or someone moving amongst the trees.

"Miss Wilshaw..."a voice said, pulling her from her thoughts and Chloe turned her stern gaze to the witch she had employed to take care of her bastard son.

The boy was almost two, or maybe he was two already, she couldn't remember and honestly she didn't really care; she didn't have the time to waste with trivial things such as the bastard boy's age. She resented that he had even been born and every time she looked at him she saw Lucius Malfoy, despite the dark hair and eyes that he had inherited from her; most of the time she couldn't even stand to be around her son.

"Mama," the boy said happily, reaching both of his chubby hands out to the woman who had given him life, leaning away from the young witch who had him resting on her hip. The nanny, Sara, held on to him tightly, almost protectively. She had been taking care of Clayton Wilshaw since he was a new born and she cared for him as if he were her own.

"Why are you giving it to me?" Chloe asked as she eyed up the sticky child that was in the nanny's arms. She had no intention of giving up the remainder of her afternoon to care for the boy; it was not something she had ever done before, and would not being so any time in the foreseeable future; she knew how disgusting children were after all.

"It's my half day, Ma'am," Sara said gently; keeping the exasperation she felt from her tone; she had given Miss Wilshaw plenty of notice after all. Sara couldn't stand the way this poor excuse of a woman treated her son, but had little choice but to remain respectful or else risk losing her job.

She loved two year old Clayton with all her heart and it was so hard to watch the way Miss Wilshaw treated him; if she could have stolen away with him, and gotten away with it, then she would have done but she knew that she couldn't. If she did that then she would never see him again and she would probably end up in Azkaban on the charge of kidnapping.

"So, take him with you, Sara" Chloe said dismissively, her eyes already back on the tree line as she sipped at her tea. "I pay you to take care of… it." She had very little patience for either Sara or Clayton; they were just there, a constant presence in her life, very much unwanted and unloved.

"It's my half day and I have plans with some friends," Sara said gently as she adjusted the toddler in her arms as he strained towards his mother. She had arranged this half day with her employer several weeks earlier and after not having a break in almost two years she thought she deserved to have a few hours to herself, however much it hurt to be away from the little boy.

"What do you expect me to do with it?" Chloe asked, turning to look at Sara with a pinched expression that spoke of how little she wanted to be having this conversation. She let her eyes glance over her son and could see that he had clearly had jam recently, as there was evidence of it over his face and hands.

Sara was looking at her employer, absolutely horrified at the words she had spoken, and, despite all she knew about the terrible woman, she was still somehow surprised by the attitude.

"With all due respect, Madame, he is your son," Sara said stiffly. She met Chloe's narrowed eyes with the calmest, most patient, expression she could muster but the woman remained unmoving. Chloe sat, sipping daintily from her tea cup and making no move to take her little boy, who was still straining out to reach her.

"Put it over there," Chloe said motioning to the grass in front of her. "Leave him to play, and then leave if you must," she added, not caring where the boy ended up for the afternoon as long as she didn't have to deal with him.

"Madame, he's two, he can't be left outside on his own, he needs to be supervised," Sara said in protest, clinging to the toddler in disbelief of Miss Wilshaw's cavalier attitude towards her son's care. She knew a few other nanny's and of course had heard the tales of the terrible parents some of them had met, but Chloe Wilshaw was something else altogether and Sara was starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable leaving Clayton with her.

Chloe turned to glare at the nanny, who was still distracting from a lovely afternoon in the garden; she employed the woman to take for her son not to pass comment or judgement on her. If this witch wasn't careful then she would shortly find herself out of a job. "Leave him somewhere else then," Chloe suggested impatiently. "I'll have a house elf deal with him."

Sara shook her head in disbelief. Not liking the idea of leaving Clayton anywhere near his mother, or in fact anywhere that he might come to harm, she decided she would take him back inside. "He's due his nap anyway. I'll settle him in his nursery before I go," she said and Chloe nodded, waving the nanny off dismissively. Sara was fairly certain the woman hadn't heard a word she said.

FGHP

Two hours later, Sara was very much enjoying her afternoon off; it had been far too long since she had had a chance to spend time with people her own age, let alone actual friends. But in the time Sara had spent away from her job, Chloe had left the house to do some shopping in Diagon Alley and Clayton had been left in the care of house elves.

They were under the instruction to take him outside and let him play if he woke up from his nap. Chloe had been very clear about the fact that she didn't want him in the house; she had guests coming over this evening for a dinner party and she didn't want the child to make a mess before they arrived.

Clayton woke up from his nap screaming for attention, as he usually did. Normally Sara would have been there to scoop him up and play with him but today he was alone and the toddler didn't like that. He was crying for near enough half an hour before a wrinkly house elf appeared.

The poor creature wasn't quite sure what to do with the toddler who wouldn't stop crying. However, following the instruction of its mistress, the house elf took Clayton and put him in the middle of the lawn in the garden. The timid creature then left him there, returning to the kitchens having a lot of work to do in preparation for the evening's dinner party. It was only a house elf after all and if he didn't get his work done then there would be punishments.

Sniffling and breathing heavily from his earlier hysterics and not entirely sure what was going on, as he was so rarely just left on his own, Clayton pulled himself to his feet. He was a confident walker and had been since he was just over thirteen months old. The young boy looked around, wondering where to explore first when he spotted movement coming from the tree line just ahead of him.

Clayton had always been a curious boy, and now, with no one to hold him back, he was going to explore. Sara never let him anywhere the forest, always telling him that it was too dangerous but she wasn't here to stop him. She had been told stories about wolves that roamed around the forest, protecting the house and he wanted to find out if they were true. With steady steps he made his way over to where he had seen the slight movement, desperate to find out what it was.

To start with he couldn't see anything and Clayton paused near the trees, tipping his head as he tried to peer into the forest; but then a huge man with dark blond hair and golden eyes stepped out from the undergrowth, surveying the toddler with interest. Clayton went wide eyed, as he looked up at the person in front of him, tipping his head to the other side as though this would provide him with a better view.

"Wolf," Clayton said with an excited giggle. The toddler had seen several men come and go from his mother's life and had never been shy of strangers in his entire two years; he wasn't about to start now.

The two year old suddenly, out of nowhere, sneezed and the force of it landed him back on his bum, making the small boy giggle even more. The man who had just appeared out of the tree line remained quiet, just watching, without a word he opened his arms to see what the toddler's reaction would be. Clayton smiled and stretched out his arms to the large man, flexing his fingers.

He was impressed with the courage of the young boy. He had been watching the house all day, after hearing the frightful woman talk about the child before him now, as though the young child were nothing more than an inconvenience. Having lost his mate, who had been pregnant, Fenrir despised anyone who disregarded their children. This little boy was something else though and would make an excellent playmate for his new mate; they were roughly the same age he was sure.

Picking up the boy with care he held him up to look at him. He appeared to be well fed, well dressed; the woman taking care of him, who wasn't his mother, had been doing a good job but it was clear that the boy was unwanted in the household. What really interested Fenrir, however, was that the scent surrounding the boy was one that was familiar to him.

He was rather good with scents; his nose was far superior, even by comparison to most werewolves; a rare gift and one that he was rather proud of. He could identify even the most subtle of scents; it was how he had known that his mate was so special. It took him a moment of studying the boy, inhaling his unique scent before he realised how it was he recognised it.

The boy's father was Lucius Malfoy. He was sure of it. He had known Malfoy senior since joining Voldemort, they had been acquaintances of sorts he supposed but never had he mentioned any child other than the one that resided at the Manor with Lucius and his wife. Strange,; very strange.

The child he held in his arms now held little resemblance to the boy that Lucius bragged about. All the Malfoy's he knew were blond haired and silver or blue eyed, this boy had dark brown curls atop his head and dark brown eyes, there was very little of Lucius' features in him at all. Clearly this boy was an unwanted secret and that grated with Fenrir.

The toddler reached up with his hand and touched the man's lips, smiling happily up at the older man; he had a rather cheeky grin about him. Fenrir had made his mind up the moment the toddler hadn't shied away from him but now he was even more certain in his decision; if no one else wanted the child then he would have him. He could see that if the child survived the bite then he would make an excellent werewolf.

"Clayton," a panicked voice shouted from the back door of the house. Fenrir looked up and saw the nanny looking around frantically for any sign of the child. He sunk back into the tree line, where he would be hidden from her line of sight, but he could still see her.

"Sara," Clayton said, straining around to try and see her, as he heard her calling out for him. "Sara," he repeated, this time looking at Fenrir and pointing towards the house.

"Not any more," Fenrir said with a grunt, taking one of the small hands within his own and raising it to his lips, baring his teeth. Clayton just looked at him curiously, not knowing what was going on but not fighting it either.

When Fenrir bit down upon the toddlers right index finger, hard enough to draw blood the little boy didn't scream or cry out. Instead his bottom lip trembled and his eyes filled with tears, unable to understand why anyone would want to hurt him like this.

"CLAYTON!" came the panicked voice of Sara again as she searched frantically for the toddler.

Fenrir watched her searching manically all around the garden and decided that it was time to leave. He would take the boy to Damon and Eric; hopefully it would help to have a child of similar age to Harry. It could make it easier to get close to Severus and he had little time to raise pups himself; he had no doubt that Damon and Eric would make excellent fathers to the young boy.

How many of you had figured out who Clay really was? Leave us a review and let us know :-)