It Rains

Thestrals and Werewolves

Warning: 

The following chapter depicts graphic violence and gore. As well as non-con explicit content. Reader discretion is advised.

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Time passed so slowly that Laurel had decided to keep the curtains permanently closed; she could not bear to see how the scarce sunlight faded and the nights fell without having any news of Severus.

She preferred to do her waiting in the gloom, accompanied only by the hundreds of magic books. She spent most of the day in complete silence, rereading brewing instructions, practicing the potions that didn't require a magic wand, and studying Severus' notes. She only broke that self-imposed vow of silence when Enoby brought her daily food ration. A somewhat dormant existence that was only stirred by the sudden chemical reactions of a failed brew or by the inopportune memories of the hungry kisses of the man who had opened her eyes to a whole new world.

She pushed the image of his thin face, of the long black lashes adorning his closed eyes, to the depths of her mind. She also pushed away the tingling sensation at the thought of the greed with which he had devoured her lips, with the thirst of a man abandoned in the desert. She did not want to remember. It was torture enough waiting in total solitude.

She turned her attention back to the scribbles in front of her:

R. Lupin – (b. 1960 h. 6′2″ w.162)

Werewolf

The subject has shown a total fixation for Akardos blood. Loss of consciousness and seizures as a result of ingestion of at least 20 ml of blood sample. Next lunation: December 24th".

She raised an eyebrow curiously. She had seen that name before, R. Lupin. She read it on one of the sample labels Severus kept in his lab. She made her way to the other end of the long table that, by now, Laurel was convinced was being held up by some magic spell given the sheer amount of lab instruments, samples, and ingredients on top of it. She searched for it among the enormous number of bottles and vials and soon found it. The glass bottle labelled R. Lupin contained samples of already clotted blood. She examined it against the candlelight, but then the sudden sound of the door handle startled her.

She felt herself blush suddenly, the butterflies in her stomach made her nauseous and she felt the need to adjust her hair, to stand up straight and appear more attractive, though, she couldn't help but put on a simping smile. However, Severus didn't go through the doors. The handles shook a second time, but the doors kept shut.

Laurel approached them slowly, tuning her ears and trying to discern who was on the other side. She pressed her ear against the wood and could make out a high-pitched, somewhat muffled cry. It was Enoby, there was no doubt.

"Enoby?" - She whispered concerned. - "What's wrong?"

"Your Mistress orders it, house-elf". - Said a strangely lethargic voice that Laurel could distinguish as Narcissa's. - "Obey him".

With a loud snap, Enoby appeared inside the suite, but this time she was not alone, Greyback pressed his arm against the elf's delicate neck, holding her in the air, cutting off her breath. When he met Laurel's shocked eyes, he let out a triumphant roar. His wounded face contorted in wicked laughter. He took a step toward Laurel, who pressed her back against the door in complete terror. She reached for the door handle with one hand, not taking her eyes off Greyback's hulking figure and desperately tried to open the door but her effort was in vain.

"No, little lamb, now I'm the one holding the keys". - He said shaking Enoby's fainted body and then throwing it aside. - "We will have a good time, I promise you".