Interview with the Wolf || Mary & Fenrir & the Pack
Although the war had raged for a year, Mary still found herself looking for different angles on stories. Unlike some other journalist (side eyeing you, Rita Skeeter) Mary truly tried to publish unbiased reports that provided information instead of rumors--which, of course, earned her both praise and scorn, and sometimes both combined into a backhanded compliment.
Mary didn’t doubt that she would catch a lot of flack for her newest story. With all of the talk of elitism and species bias, Mary’s interest in other species’ viewpoints had spiked. Unlike other members in the wizarding community, Mary didn’t mind nonhumans; why should she? If the Dark Lord had his way, she would soon find herself on the dangerous side of prejudice. Mary wanted to tell the truth, no matter how unpopular.
In that vein, she had arranged for several interviews with nonhumans; goblins, freed house elves, and even a vampire named Louis. Now, she was closing in on her last interview: a self-proclaimed werewolf. With such a stigma around lycanthropy, Mary had been surprised that any werewolf would voluntarily sit down and tell their experience. Even more surprisingly, her interviewee had agreed to allow the Prophet to publish his real name. The werewolf’s only request had been that Mary meet him in a small park outside of wizarding London, which she had readily accepted. This was an important interview, after all, concerning an even tougher subject; she would want to make the interviewee as comfortable as possible
However, when Gerard Cullen had stumbled up the path, a flask in his hand at 3:32 in the afternoon, Mary had begun to rethink her decision. She sat on the edge of the bench, crossing her feet at her ankles and whirling her quill as she studied the man that sat next to her. The werewolf leaned back easily in the bench, stretching out long limbs and looping his hands behind his head as a support. “What can I say? Being a werewolf is great,” Gerard said, grinning lazily. Golden locks fell over his bright blue eyes, and he flicked the strands out of the way so he could study Mary better.
“Can you give me a little more details? Tell me why you think that being a werewolf is so desirable?” Mary asked, meeting his gaze. “I want our readers to understand.”
Gerard shrugged. “It’s whatever, I guess. Hey are you going to take my picture for the Prophet?”
Mary blinked, and her brow creased in confusion. “Sorry, no. I want to protect you in case this doesn’t go the right way.” Gerard scowled at Mary’s comment, and shook his head.
“Listen, I’m doing you a favor. You should be grateful.”
Her intuition flared, and Mary matched Gerard’s scowl with her own. “I am. But you’ve got to give me a little bit of info here. You act like you’re hiding something.”
The man cringed and dropped his gaze, trying to hide the truth, but Mary caught the expression in his eyes. “You are hiding something.” She didn’t realize it, but her voice rose and she found herself standing and glaring down at Gerard. Something’s definitely wrong. Footsteps echoed on the path, but Mary didn’t bother to look up, keeping her attention locked on the impostor.
