Question: No, Greyback was never a Death Eater. Remember, during Hobb's inner monologue, he mentioned Greyback was actually 'at odds' with the Dark Lord during the First War and chose to act alone. He does have many Death Eater's in his pack, though, and their allegiance to the Dark Lord versus Greyback will be addressed later in the story.


[Chapter Seven]

The smells, the ear-splitting noises, and the sheer amount of people all jammed-packed inside the stadium gave Harry a migraine. The bright lights were also a nuisance on his delicate senses. It was a reminder that he was no longer a part of this world, no matter how much he'd like to think otherwise. It surprised him how much the trees and the wilderness had grown on him the past few months.

Nonetheless, he still enjoyed himself. Yes… somehow…despite the growing unease of dread in his stomach, he enjoyed himself, or, at least he liked to convince himself as much.

"Careful, you're beginning to resemble Bill," Ginny teased, touching Harry's earring affectionately. "Mum would have a fit if she knew."

He grinned at her attention. "All the members in Caleb's pack have a pierced ear."

"But you aren't a member of his pack. Aren't you technically Greyback's pack member now?" Hermione peered at Ginny and Harry from over her cup of hot chocolate, pointedly ignoring Ron and the Weasley twins as they hollered around the tent like idiots. "The Prophet said Greyback was granted custody of you yesterday."

Harry tore his eyes from Ginny. "That's news to me," he answered, suddenly reminded of the unease in his stomach. At her words, it only intensified. "Caleb didn't say anything about it today."

However, now that Harry thought about it, the Alpha did say Greyback wouldn't take custody of Harry before Hogwarts term began. It was a relief, because he knew Greyback would not let Harry's little excursion tonight slide unpunished. The thought made his entire mood dim. The Quidditch World Cup had been a blast while it lasted, but now that his adrenaline died, he knew he was in a pile of deep shite.

Caleb was hard on him this summer for having a smart mouth; he could only imagine what Greyback had in mind for disobeying his word. Just standing in that man's presence forced Harry off kilter.

And how was he even supposed to get back to Caleb and the others werewolves? There were a few days left of Lunar Days. He supposed he had to go back to the Burrow and Owl Caleb from there. Maybe Caleb would let him stay until school started. And if Greyback was pissed enough, he'd have to arrive at the Weasley's house and drag him away.

Though the thought had meant to be amusing, it just sent a shiver of dread down his spine.

"Well, it looks like the summer with Caleb did you well, Harry," Hermione continued. "You look a lot healthier than you did last term. It's a good thing you recovered from your Wolfsbane addiction." Here, she gave him a pointed stare, as if to tell him that she'd preached about the dangers a long, long time ago.

He grinned, knowing all too well she had expressed her concerns when all he'd wanted to do was remain oblivious.

"Yeah, you do look… healthier," Ginny supplied in agreement, smiling.

Harry looked at her, observing her lack of shyness that usually encompassed her. Granted, there was still a shadow of bashfulness there, but it appeared as if Ginny had inherited some confidence over the summer. They both had.

Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing the true meaning of Ginny's praise. However, before she could say anything further, Ron leaped on top the table, knocking over their mugs of hot chocolate and roaring about the impressiveness that was Viktor Krum. Harry sat next to Ginny, watching the scene unfold with a silly grin. Hermione, on the other hand, tried desperately to clean up Ron's mess, her cheeks flushed with irritation.

Suddenly, the ground shook and an eruption of screams sounded from outside. Harry stood up, cocking his head and listening for the unusual disturbance. The yelling was familiar, as the fans were celebrating and the booze was flowing, but somehow… he sensed something was not right.

"The Irishmen!" Fred laughed in glee. "I reckon they have a long night ahead of them!"

Ron leaped off the table, nearly slipping on the spilled hot chocolate. He grasped the flag around his shoulders and regained his balance, flashing a sheepish glance at Hermione. She ignored him deliberately, patting a handkerchief against her soiled clothes. "Honestly, Ronald," she insulted beneath her breath.

An ear-splitting bang sounded once more and the screams intensified.

Arthur Weasley barged inside the tent, Charlie, Bill, and Percy hot on his heels. "It's not the Irish," Arthur informed severely, having overheard Fred. He looked at Harry before motioning toward the immobile twins. "Fred, George, stick with Ginny. All of you stick together. Go to the woods and wait there until we get things sorted out."

Everyone froze at the severity.


Harry moved away from the table and towards the tent exit with the others. Behind him, the twins grabbed Ginny and hoisted her between them. He exited the tent, immediately looking towards the distant swarm of dark figures. The hooded and masked wizards grouped tightly together and grew in numbers as they advanced amongst the endless tents.

Tents were aflame and people were screaming shrilly. They knocked each other over and elbowed their way to get to the woods. Harry took a step back in surprise, watching the sheer animosity and self-preservation of these people.

"What about you, dad?" Ron squeaked in question.

"We're going to help the Ministry." Arthur rolled up his sleeves, a grim but determined glint in his eyes. "Go, quickly."

Arthur and his eldest three sons retreated and soon got lost in the crowd. Harry frowned, watching them go. In the distance, there were four figures spinning around crazily in midair, their puppeteers none other than the dark crowd of wizards below them. Were these Death Eaters? They looked like petulant children to Harry. Most likely drunk and eager to cause destruction.

But at what purpose? Cause panic and fear? To remind the public they were still around?

Harry suddenly fretted. Did Voldemort intend to reveal himself to the Wizarding world tonight? No, that couldn't be. His scar was oddly inactive. There wasn't even a small burn to indicate Voldemort's presence or even his strong emotions.

"Harry! Come on!"

He snapped out of his retrieve, nearly getting elbowed to death by a passing hoard. He followed the others, his mind racing. Caleb would freak. Greyback would freak. It was bad enough he disobeyed them, but now they had been right. Harry thought their fears regarding lax security was silly and pointless.

He hated being proved wrong.

A man shoved past him, intending to knock him off course and make his way ahead of others. Harry's eyes narrowed as he used his canine strength to stay firmly on his feet. As a result, the man stumbled backward and onto his arse. Others trampled over him, knocking him out cold. Harry felt a pang of regret, but forced himself to continue.

The distance between him and the others grew. Bodies swarmed and frantic screams filled the night. Before long, Hermione's frantic expression disappeared and Harry found himself alone with a crowd of frightened people.

The fear surrounding him was overwhelming, but Harry remained oddly collected. He made his way through the mass of frantic humans with measured and confident strides, never losing his footing despite the shoving and the desperate nudging. From the corner of his eye, he saw a small frame huddled against a tent. It was a boy, probably around the age of ten, his cries lost amongst the mass desperation.

Harry could hear him, though.

Sighing, he cut through the throng of people and detoured his way to the boy. The child had his head bowed towards his bent knees, muttering something nonsensical. Harry grimaced and crouched down in front of him, touching the thin shoulder. Something did not seem right about this boy. Something didn't smell right. It was a burnt smell… like someone forgot to grab the food from the oven and it resulted in a charred mess.

"Hey, kid." Harry prodded the frail shoulder again. "You need to get up and—"

He didn't get a chance to finish. The boy's head snapped up and horror washed Harry cold.

He scrambled away, falling on his arse and trying to climb to his feet. Unfortunately, a knee caught him in his temple and he fell back down, his vision going black. A few other people ran over him, stepping on him and knocking him further into the dark. He closed his eyes for only a second, or at least that's how long it felt like.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone in the dirt.

There was an odd silence in the air, occasionally broken by curses being thrown back and forth. An odd, green glow highlighted the densely foggy night and Harry craned his neck back and stared up at the mark in the sky. The acidic green skull and serpent sent a wave of unease through his stomach, as did being utterly alone amongst the wasteland of desertion.

The smell of burning tents and fire suddenly reminded him of the boy.

Harry scrambled up, his pulse racing furiously. It hadn't been a boy, not even a human. That face… it was indescribable and every bit horrifying. The decayed flesh, the sharp teeth and the soul-piercing eyes…

Small hairs rose on the back of Harry's neck as he caught sight of a dark silhouette standing motionlessly across from him. The figure was small, the same size as that… that child-monster. Despite Harry's ability of seeing well in the dark, the figure remained completely cloaked by shadows. It just stood there silently and observed him.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded loudly.

A set of wide glowing eyes flashed entirely all white. "You dogs are all the same. Loud and aggressive." The white eyes narrowed.

What the bloody hell was it? He remembered seeing the pointed fangs of the child. Every tooth, not just the incisors, were pointed and long. He hadn't studied vampires in school yet, but he assumed this malevolent creature across from him was just that, a vampire. And despite his little knowledge on the subject, Harry knew vampires and werewolves did not get along.


Someone cried his name in the distance. Judging from the high-pitched tenor, he guessed it was Hermione. She called out again, her call echoing across the eerie campgrounds. With his attention distracted, the dark silhouette raced towards him, his figure a mere blur. Harry turned too late, gasping as an incredibly strong force caught him in his stomach.

He flew through the air and landed on top a tent. It collapsed around him, drowning him in a sea of thick fabric. He kicked and punched the tent, trying to detangle himself. The longer he struggled with the bloody tent, the hotter his temper became. Mocking laughter sounded from somewhere near and sharp claws caught him across his face.

He paused for a moment, overcome with a powerful need to hunt down this monster and hurt him.

Forgetting Caleb's careful teachings of patience and serenity, Harry ripped the tent with his elongated claws, giving way to his anger. His body trembled with rage and his vision turned red. He slowly spun around, looking in every direction. Blood trickled down his cheek from the claw wounds, though he paid the stinging no heed.

When Harry got his hands on that bloody vampire…

A gust of wind rustled his messy hair and he struck. Before the child-like monster could land another hit, Harry turned with unnatural speed and grabbed the vampire's outstretched arm. Without giving the vampire a chance to recover, Harry slammed his palm into the boy's face, cracking and breaking his nose.

The vampire twisted out of his hold and sprinted away, laughing merrily. Harry hardly hesitated as he raced after the creature, nearly foaming at the mouth. How dare this… this fanged brat get the better of him? Mock him?

He entwined through the tents at breakneck speed, zigzagging and lunging. His claws nearly grabbed hold of the vampire's lose clothing, yet he was never fast enough to gain possession. All the while, the brat laughed and led him on a wild goose chase, never ceasing his speed.

"This is the new poster child for the werewolf community?" the vampire inquired merrily. He leaped over a dissembled tent and Harry soared after him. "Not to be a bearer of bad news, little puppy, but you don't quite meet our expectations. And they were quite low to begin with."

Harry growled low in his chest, irritation prickling every inch of his skin. He sprinted after the boy, looping around a group of tents and then coming to an abrupt stop. The vampire was gone, and in his place, a group of masked wizards stood. They turned at his sudden appearance, acting instinctively.

Harry went cross-eyed as he stared at the wand pointed directly between his eyes. His pulse continued to race, as did his anger. If these wizards thought they could scare him…

"Lower your wands," a familiar Scottish voice demanded levelly from behind Harry. "Or I will consider it as a direct threat."

And just like that, Harry's anger turned cold and lifeless.

The majority of the Death Eaters abruptly lowered their wands, their eyes growing wide behind their masks. Their entire mood shifted from vindictive to fearful. They looked like wounded animals to Harry, though he wasn't much better. Fear raised the hairs on his body as he turned and looked at the Alpha behind him.

And there was Greyback, poised and wild.

He stood confidently amongst the blanket of fog, his face carved from cruel stone. Other figures of his pack slowly emerged from the proximity, spaced out evenly, but close enough to Greyback to show their allegiance. They gazed listlessly at the Death Eaters, their postures assumingly lazy and bored, yet their eyes sharp and predator-like.

"Are you saying that you will go another war without supporting the Dark Lord, Greyback? How cowardly."

Harry glanced at the Death Eaters, noticing the front man had yet to lower his wand. Before Harry could register the audacity of the ballsy Death Eater, he found his back pressed against the dark wizard's chest. The man wrapped an oppressing arm against his throat and dug the tip of his wand against Harry's temple.

He stared listlessly at Greyback, noticing the man's pack members take a marginal step forward at the threat. Greyback simply cocked his head, causing his pack members to turn motionless once again.

"And you call my actions cowardly…" Greyback purred darkly, his eyes bright. "What do you intend to do with my pack member?"

Whispers chorused behind Harry. He could hear some of the Death Eaters warn their comrade to let him go. They were afraid of Greyback, Harry realized. As they should be. Yet, it still came to a surprise that the Dark Lord's followers feared anyone besides their Master. But then again, amongst the fearful Death Eaters, Harry also heard cruel encouragements and offensive insults aimed at werewolves in general.

It shouldn't have surprised him. There was not a single issue in the world that garnered a cohesive opinion from the population. There would always be an opposing voice.

"There is something thrilling about being this close to the Dark Lord's Chosen One," the Death Eater breathed, sending a wave of potent breath in Harry's face. He was drunk. "I have you at my mercy, boy. What kind of reward would I get if I killed you now?" The man's wand parted the hair on Harry's forehead to reveal his lightning bolt scar.

Harry bit his cheek and his eyes became half-lidded with impatience. As he stared obstinately ahead, he finally noticed the figures behind Greyback. Ron, Hermione, and Arthur Weasley. They stayed immobile, as if Greyback had instructed them to do so, though their eyes were wide on Harry, as if this human was an actual threat.

The Death Eater touched the blood on Harry's cheek, startling him back to the present.

A low growl resonated in his chest and his fingers clenched. Before the Death Eater could lick his bloodied fingers, Harry threw an elbow into the man's stomach, entirely unforgiving. As the Death Eater gasped, lost for breath, Harry took captive of his arm and flung the man over his head as if he were weightless.

Once the man landed on his back, Harry flipped him on to his stomach, keeping captive of his arm. He pressed his boot against the back of the man's neck and pressed down, snapping the shoulder out of its socket. The Death Eater screamed and there were several cracks of Disapparition as his comrades fled the scene.

"Harry! Stop!" Hermione cried.

Nearly lost in bloodlust, Harry released the arm first. The man sagged against the ground, whimpering. Harry then removed his boot slowly, applying a significant amount of pressure against the neck before withdrawing completely. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he glanced at his friends. As expected, Hermione appeared horrified, but Ron was grinning ear to ear.


A strong hand grabbed his jawline, forcing his attention on to the hovering Alpha. Glacier-blue eyes regarded him closely, looking at every inch of him for any wounds. His eyes lingered on the scratch he received from the vampire. If Harry didn't know better, he assumed Greyback was actually concerned, though that assumption abruptly crumbled when Greyback's fist tightened and his eyes hardened.

Fear settled in Harry's chest as the Alpha fisted his hair and pulled him alongside him. Harry struggled to keep up with the man as Greyback closed in on Arthur Weasley. The trio of humans appeared nervous at the advancing Alpha, their expressions varying degrees of trepidation.

"Next time you have dealings with Harry, you will go through me," Greyback explained sharply. "Do you understand? Until he is of age, you will need my expressed permission before attending events like this."

Arthur appeared speechless at first. He looked at Harry, disappointed. "I- I had thought you gave him permission," Arthur stammered out. Harry avoided eye contact with the disenchanted adult just as the disenchanted adult avoided eye contact with the terrifying Alpha. "I understand. I will contact you personally."

Without another word, Greyback spun around. His hand dropped from Harry's hair before finding his arm, curling around it in a bruising hold. Harry clenched his eyes closed against the hard pressure, knowing what was to come. Greyback dragged him in Side-Along Apparition, and Harry withheld the bout of nausea as his body and mind squeezed through time and space.

Fortunately, he landed on his feet when they dropped into the heavy forest.

Only, Greyback was nowhere to be seen, neither were the others.

Harry placed his palm against the strong tree trunk, trying to gather his bearings. He slouched and looked in the distance, recognizing the forest as the location of Lunar Days. There were fires and giddy voices of the other packs, but they were so far, they wouldn't have heard Harry's arrival.

Was this Fenrir's punishment? Make Harry walk back alone?

His senses screeched in warning as soon as the thought occurred to him. He straightened suddenly, peering into the darkness around him. He wasn't alone. Greyback had to be here if he Apparated them here. True dread turned his stomach over, yet Harry tried to keep face. Somewhere nearby, Greyback was watching him, and that thought terrified him.

"I'm sorry for going against your order," Harry found himself saying, though his tone was stubborn and hardly apologetic.

Greyback did not answer him.

It suddenly dawned on Harry that this was the first time he was on Greyback's shit list. As much as he hated to admit it, usually the man always came to his rescue. He'd pulled him from his relatives, he'd been there during his first transformation, he'd eased the pain of his Wolfsbane detoxification, and just recently, he'd scared away a group of Death Eaters without raising a wand.

It was frustrating to realize this. Harry didn't want anyone to be so bloody helpful. He didn't want to rely on anyone for help.

Especially Greyback.

He turned back to the distant werewolves, contemplating about running towards them. But no. As soon as that idea crossed his mind, he threw it out. Greyback would want Harry to run. It would initiate a chase and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Just get it over with," Harry growled in frustration. "I accept whatever punishment you think is necessary."

"I hear these words of apology, yet I'm not even the slightest bit convinced that you understand the severity of your actions."

Harry whirled around, taking a step back when he spotted Greyback leaning against a nearby tree. The man hadn't been there seconds ago, yet his lazy position made it seem like he'd been there since their arrival. Harry couldn't help but to register the man's cultured words and the sharp intelligence in his eyes.

There was more to Fenrir Greyback than what met the eye.

He was all muscle, he was an animal, he was imposing and intimidating, and he was a killer. That's what the general public knew and saw. From the stories and from the mouth of others, Harry never expected Greyback to have sharp intelligence and a sort of… wild sophistication. It made Harry curious to know what kind of man Greyback was underneath his bite.

He pushed those thoughts away and focused on the Alpha across from him. "I don't think anything I say will satisfy you."

Blue eyes glittered dangerously at Harry's lip. He pushed off from the tree and took a step closer. And then another. Harry tried to calm his racing pulse, but he knew he failed. He could literally feel his heart climb up his throat as Greyback closed in.

His arms went up in defense as Greyback grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the tree. His body trembled like jelly and his knees gave out. All of Caleb's defense lessons… all of his defiance abruptly fled from his reach. He reverted back to his puppy mentality as he faced the big, bad wolf.

Greyback held him up and forcibly cocked his head to the side. "You will learn."

Sharp canines embedded deeply into his neck and Harry's eyes dilated with pain. Before he could comprehend the pain and the flow of blood, Greyback released him and he slid to the base of the tree. Rivulets of warm blood rained down his neck and underneath the collar of his shirt. His shocked eyes stared up at Greyback, watching as the Alpha licked his bloody lips greedily, his eyes flashing a lusty amber.

The man scooped up the remnants of blood off his chin before licking his fingers clean. He enjoyed it, Harry realized with horror. The Alpha stared down at him, his eyes still bright amber.

"Your actions are no longer just your own."

Anger slowly began to replace Harry's shocked submission. He grimaced against the pain in his neck. "Yes, I know. Everything I do reflects back to the werewolf community."

Greyback sneered. "I am not Caleb White. Therefore, I will not treat you like a marionette," he informed darkly. "You can no longer act on your own and neglect your safety. You have a pack now. A pack who sees your safety as their responsibility. Don't be so brash as to disregard it. Every danger you throw yourself into, you throw the pack into as well."

Harry frowned, never looking at things that way. Greyback's pack hated him, he was sure of it, yet many members had gone with Greyback to retrieve him from the Death Eaters tonight. If the situation had been more severe, there could have been injuries… deaths. All because of Harry's insistence to go against Greyback's order.

"I see you finally understand."

Harry bowed his head in order to glare at the ground. He lifted his lip and bared his teeth. Doing it to Greyback's face would be a direct act of challenge. He didn't want another hole in his throat.

"Yes. I understand."

There was no movement from Greyback, who stood only a pace away. Harry endured the stare, yet he remained submissive and kept his head bowed. The warmth across his cheeks was mere proof that he felt ashamed for his actions. To imagine… Greyback losing a pack member just because Harry wanted to run off and watch Quidditch.

"My priority is not to be your friend," Greyback informed sternly. "My first priority will always be your safety. You are under my protection now. But I know you hold White in high regard." When Harry looked up, he noticed Greyback looking pointedly at his pierced ear. "But if he steps out of line in his quest of molding you into some sort of patriarch for the werewolves, I will sever the connection you share with him. Permanently."

Harry frowned. "It's what I want to do."

Greyback suddenly leaned forward and placed their eyes on equal levels. "I understand that. But if it gets out of line, I will interfere."

The intensity in his blue eyes took Harry off guard. So much so, he could only stare mutely. He wanted to challenge the Alpha, to tell him he could take care of himself, and that Caleb would never step out of line. The other Alpha deserved Harry's defense in the face of Greyback's skepticism.

But he couldn't even move a muscle.

Knowing his words sunk in, Greyback turned his heel and prowled away, leaving Harry shaking in quiet anger.


"You'll have a scar," Remus indicated as he cleaned up the wound across Harry's throat. "But I think that was his intention. A reminder. Considering Greyback usually tears out throats of those who go against him, I think he practiced considerable restraint."

Harry stared listlessly at Remus as the man sterilized his wound. It stung like hell, but Harry hardly flinched.

After Greyback left him in the woods, Remus had been there, taking him by the shoulders and steering him towards a group of tents. He'd said something about Greyback taking custody of him for the rest of the summer. It didn't come to a shock to Harry, considering his foolhardy venture to the World Cup. Caleb would be powerless to argue against Greyback's word, simply because Greyback had legal custody of him now.

"Is that what he did to that Healer?" Harry asked numbly. "The man who betrayed me to the Hunters?"

Remus paused. "Phillip Hobbs?" The man cleared his throat. "No, no. Greyback thought of a different punishment."

Harry refocused on the man. "What was it?"

The other werewolf sighed. "After he was finished with Hobbs, Greyback kicked him out of the pack."

Harry blinked at the severity of Remus' tone, not quite understanding why that was worse than tearing out someone's throat. He remained silent, though, watching as Remus unwrapped a package of gauze. The man seemed… harder than the last time Harry had seen him. The older man once possessed a gentle aura, and yet, that seemed to have disappeared.

He wore his hair shorter and he sported a short, tawny beard. He wasn't soft, either, as he had gained muscle mass and almost seemed younger. Or, at least he got rid of all his past demons.

Werewolves didn't age like humans, Harry knew. Their lifespan was significantly longer than humans and they also remained at their prime for the majority of their lives. The eternal youth was what made Greyback possess a wise aura, yet a robust physical appearance.

"I hate him."

Remus paused.

"You don't hate him, Harry. You don't even know the man." Remus wrapped his throat with the gauze. "He is a difficult man to understand, certainly, but he gives each member of his pack the tools they need to flourish and survive. He's a good Alpha." He observed Harry's pinched expression. "You just hate the feeling of powerlessness in his presence. Which is understandable. But you're not alone. No one can stand up against Greyback, not even his two sons."

Harry's hands curled. "I will someday," he vowed fiercely. "Greyback won't know how to deal with me."

"Keep dreaming, kid," a new voice announced from the entrance of the tent. "You can't promise something when your pants are still wet from piss."

Remus sighed and Harry narrowed his eyes on Greyback's son, Aelius, who'd just entered the tent. Before the flap closed behind him, Harry caught sight of several other werewolves standing guard outside the tent. He didn't know if they were there per Greyback's orders or if they just liked to follow the beta around as living, breathing shields.

"I don't—"

Aelius held up a hand, abruptly interrupting Harry. "Save it. Next time you disobey our Alpha, I will personally finish what he started on your throat." He motioned toward the bloodied rags. "You put everyone in danger tonight. Most importantly, you put our Alpha in danger. He shouldn't have to deal with such trivial matters as child rebellions."

Harry stared at him, hardly deterred at his harsh words and tone. The man looked nothing like Greyback. And no matter how strong and powerful he might be, he certainly didn't possess Greyback's sheer authority and oppressive influence.

"I suppose taking care of the children is your job?" Harry inquired innocently. He already knew he'd made a mistake tonight. Greyback had made that very clear. And Harry truly regretted his actions. He didn't need someone—a stranger— to emphasize the severity of an issue that he'd already solved.

"Harry," Remus admonished with a tense whisper.

Aelius' lips twisted into a vindictive snarl. "It is," he confirmed gleefully. "And considering you are the only child in our pack, I'm in charge of you. I can and will make your life a living hell." He sized Harry up from across the tent and Harry returned the favor. "Keep an eye open, kid, you're going to have to watch your back."

And then he left the tent.

Harry watched him leave, dispirited. He knew he'd have a long way to go to earn respect from his pack, and yet, arseholes like Aelius would go out of their way to make things difficult.

"If you didn't encourage him with your cheeky comments…"

"I'm not going to let someone walk over me, Remus," Harry replied darkly. "And I'm definitely not going to be submissive just to earn a place in this pack. If I'm going to make my place, I'm going to earn it by being myself."

Remus appeared fatigued. "Rest up. You have a big day tomorrow."

Harry touched his throat and watched as Remus stood from his cot. He debated with himself on which question to ask Remus amongst the endless, upon endless of questions. He wanted to know more about the other man, to know what life was like inside Greyback's pack.

"Big day tomorrow?" he repeated.

The other werewolf paused before leaving. "I'm sure there are competitive events Greyback would like you to compete in. He… all of us… are curious to know where you are with your training." At seeing Harry's grimace, Remus smiled. "Only for a reference point, Harry. We don't intend to mock you for your weaknesses. We need to see where to pick up your training."

Harry didn't respond. He knew Remus meant well, but he also knew there would be people who would mock him for his areas of weakness. Aelius especially. But there was no point dreading over the inevitable. The only thing he could do is try his best and accept what came after.