Greyback's Daughter by clumsywerewolf2438
Chapter Notes: Thanks to voldiegirl for editing this quickly during English.
The sound of heavy breathing above him woke Remus Lupin more effectively than the cold. His knuckles, already white from the freezing air, whitened as he clenched the photograph tighter in his hand. He opened his eyes and sat up. Yawning, he saw the figure who had been standing above him. “Morning, Greyback,” he grumbled hoarsely.
“Get up, Lupin,” Greyback snarled. His savage eyes glinted wildly in the predawn light.
Without a word, Remus stood up, still clutching his most prized possession: The photograph. He tried to cram it in his pocket subtlety, so that Greyback wouldn’t see it, but it was in vain.
“What’s in your hand, Lupin?” Greyback growled.
“A picture,” Remus said truthfully. There was no point in lying about that. Not when lying could get him killed.
“Let me see it,” rasped Greyback.
Remus silently handed him the picture. Greyback clasped it in his claw-like hand and smoothed the crumpled photo. His bloodshot eyes looked at the face of the laughing, pink-haired woman hungrily, causing Remus to clench his fist angrily. He had come here to protect the woman in the photo, not to endanger her further.
“Who is she?” Greyback growled, pointing at the battered portrait with a bony finger.
“Just”just a girl,” Remus lied hurriedly. Nymphadora Tonks was more than “just a girl,” she was the true love of his life. She would have been his bride, had he not come to his senses and put an end to their slowly growing relationship. In his mind, he clearly recalled fighting with her. He remembered, clearest of all, the sharp sting of her left hand across his face as she slapped him. He remembered”just as painfully”how that same hand had gently cupped on his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to kiss her. A lump built in Remus’ throat as he thought about his playful, beautiful nymph.
“She isn’t ‘just a girl,’ Lupin. We both know that, don’t we?” Greyback asked with a barbarous grin.
“No, no she’s not,” Remus agreed. Lying would put her”and him”in even more danger.
“I didn’t think so. She left you, didn’t she? When she found out about your powers?”
“Powers” was hardly the word Remus would have chosen to describe his condition. “Curse” was a more accurate description for having your body mutated against your will every month. Being a werewolf had robbed him of respect, friends, work, and now, the one chance he had ever had at happiness; his only chance at true love. It had robbed him of the chance of having a normal, happy life with Nymphadora. Greyback didn’t have to know that it had been Remus doing the leaving, not the other way around. He would never guess and Remus would never tell him. He had to keep Nymphadora safe. He loved her so fiercely that, to protect her and help make her world a better place, he was standing in the middle of a pine forest, freezing nearly to death, about half an hour before sunrise, talking with the very man who was the reason he could never be with her. The irony was sickening; it was unfair. It was like everything else in his life.
Life had given him a nice family. Now, they were dead. Life had given him three best friends. Now, two were dead and one was a traitor. Life had given him a beautiful woman, who loved him unconditionally and as strongly as he loved her. Now, he had given up with a chance at a life with her as his wife for this, but he had done it to keep her safe, to give her a chance at happiness; a chance at a better life, a life with a man who was much better for her than him. Nymphadora needed”deserved”a perfect man. She didn’t need a penniless werewolf with nothing to offer her but a heart that ached for him to scoop her into his arms, hold her there forever and kiss her until they were out of breath. She needed someone young, someone whole, someone…normal, with money: someone who could provide for her. He simply wasn’t good enough for her, and he never would be.
Forcing himself from reverie, Remus nodded solemnly.
“Go get some breakfast, Lupin. You look rather ill and I can’t have one of my best werewolves dropping from starvation.” Greyback returned the photo.
Remus didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to the small fire being tended by one of the few female werewolves in the camp. She gave him a small smile and handed him a plate of bacon and sausage. He muttered, “Thanks, Annabeth.”
“Don’t mention it, Lupin,” Annabeth replied quietly, absent mindedly twirling a strand of messy red hair around a finger.
Remus gave her a quick smile and vanished into the shadowy forest to devour his breakfast in peace. Upon finding a fallen tree, he sat on the log and began to eat. He raised his head as he saw movement in his peripheral vision. Turning to his right, he saw a place where the shadow seemed deeper. As he blinked, a small, slender figure melted out of the darkness.
It was a girl of about thirteen with shoulder length, raven black hair that hung limply around her pale, oval-shaped face. A wry smile played around the corners of her thin mouth. Her pallid face had a harassed, cynical look to it, as if she had seen too much suffering and knew all to well the trouble in the world. Her eyes were as deep and dark as Nymphadora’s, though they were green rather than blue. There was pain in the girl’s eyes, a deep sympathy, an understanding. Her eyes were filled with immense sadness and an equal amount of wisdom. Something about this child made Remus’ heart go out to her. She seemed to know his sorrows, to feel his pain.
“Who are you?” Remus asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”
The girl gave a short, amused laugh. “Not many have,” she explained. “Though I have seen you. I’ve watched you, Remus Lupin. You aren’t like the others’ you don’t belong here. You belong somewhere else. Perhaps with the woman in your photograph.”
Remus blinked in surprise. “How did you know about that?” he asked.
“I watch; I listen. You look at that picture every night. When you do, I watch your eyes. They change: there is such love, such sadness, such longing in them, that I know she must be someone special.”
“She is,” Remus agreed.
“What’s her name?” asked the girl.
Something about this girl made Remus trust her. He decided that saying her name wouldn’t hurt. “Nymphadora. Nymphadora Tonks.”
“I just realized something!” the girl exclaimed. “I know your name, I know your girlfriend’s name, but you don’t know mine!”
“What’s your name, then?” asked Remus, intruigued.
“I’m Sara,” the girl said. “Sara Greyback.”