#the convocation

The likelihood of a muggle being able to escape a werewolf was close to impossible. Fortunately for Bellatrix, she wasn’t anything of the sort. Not only was she a witch, but she was a Black. That counted for something, hell it counted for everything. Wit had taken her to the woods. While it seemed the least easy to manoeuvre, she didn’t have an issue darting in-between the trees, wide grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Should she be caught, Fenrir wouldn’t give a second thought to ripping her limb from limb, and once he’d reverted to his human form, he still wouldn’t have given half a damn about what he’d done. The adrenalin that was pulsing through her veins was exhilarating though. She caught herself slowing every now and again to give him a better chance of catching up. Throwing a spell a little too far to the left, to give him the opportunity to miss it.

“Come and get me then, mutt. Who’s a good boy? Is it you?”

In return, she’d only be greeted with the wolf panting heavily behind her. Teeth snapping at the wind rushing into his mouth. Then all too suddenly it was quiet. Bellatrix’s footsteps had halted and while he’d been so certain of her scent before, it was gone now. He took a cautious step backwards, one paw lifting up off of the dirt while he eyes darted around the trees, scanning for any hint of movement to lunge toward. Above. They never thought to look above. Bellatrix would brag about it later, how she caught the big bad wolf with her bare hands and those insignificant little half blood scouts had only just managed it when there’d been two to a wolf. Pinning the wolf to the mud was a task in itself. Tight curls fell forward and into Bella’s face as she wrestled with the beast, clutching her wand firmly in one hand. Should anyone have followed them into the trees, this would be a sight to see. Bellatrix, with her dress hiked up over her thighs, wrestling a werewolf in the dirt. Leaves and twigs caught up the tangled mess atop her head and Fenrir snapping frantically barely an inch away from her face. She hit the ground with dull thud when he bucked sharply, sending her wand away and into a pile of leaves a short distance from her. While he could have darted toward her to sever the arm she’d used to pin him to the ground, he watched her closely for a moment. If she hadn’t already suspected that this wolf were different to the others, he was making her mind up for her, staring intensely as though he were waiting for her to reach for her wand. A silent challenge. Courageous thing. Her head tipped forward slightly, one arched brow lifting as she pushed her tongue around her mouth before she’d dart to the side to retrieve her wand. That was cue he’d waiting for. The second she’d shifted even half an inch, he was lurching forward to close the gap between them, jaw open wide in wait for the taste of leather and blood. He’d get one of the two when she lifted a booted foot up to fill the space between his teeth. Muddied fingernails raked through the leaves to find the walnut wand buried there, something of a growl pushing past her lips echoing through the woods.

“Carpe Retractum!”

Bound. Again. For the second time tonight. Had he been able to speak, he’d have made a remark about how sick he was getting of this, but for the time being all the wolf could to was howl into the night and struggle against the charm that was binding him. Again, they wrestled in amongst the leaves. Bellatrix’s jaw clenched tight as she kept a firm hold on her wand and Fenrir doing everything in how to break away from it. After a few moments he stilled, as did she, and she pressed a hand into the ground to push herself back up to her feet.

“Good boy. How about we go for walkies, hm?”

Hours had passed and while Andromeda was laid in wait by the window beside the front door, Narcissa had long since stopped waiting for her sister to come home. She’d wrestled out of the corset, cursed the younger sibling under her breath for being so utterly devoted to their eldest sister who’d taken it upon herself to put her life at risk. She would either come home, or she wouldn’t, and should she not, it was no-ones fault but her own. When the door finally thrust open, past midnight, Andromeda had almost leapt out of her skin.

“Bella?”

“Waiting for me, were you, Andromeda?”

She’d opened her mouth to speak, but quite quickly she’d taken in the sight in front of her. The eldest Black sister looked as through she’d been to hell and back. The dress that’d been clean and pressed only a few hours ago was caked in dirt, ripped and hung loosely around Bellatrix’s slender frame. Her hair was untied and resting in dirty curls falling about her shoulder, but was the most startling to see, was the wolf that she had ensnared beside her, walking along obediently by her side. If not only due to the beam of light emitting from Bella’s dragon heartstring core wand. Andromeda was speechless and while Narcissa had a number of things planned for should her sister return home, everything had fallen out of her mouth when she appeared at the top of the stairs and took in the sight. It was clear that Bellatrix was pleased with herself. One corner of mouth upturned in a smirk as she looked between her two siblings before moving through the house and heading down the basement. After all, she had claimed this wolf as her own, it only seemed right that she give it a place to live. Their basement was nothing like the one a person might imagine. Unlike the rest of their home that’d been furnished in a way that would allude to the prestigious family they were, the basement was a dark place. A single light fixture hung in one corner of the room, barely giving off any light whatsoever and the scent of damp filled the place. Bellatrix had already decided that this place was perfect for her new pet. When she’d finally released him, he paced the floor for a few moments, taking in his surroundings, and she stood in close proximity just watching him. If she hadn’t proved already that she wasn’t a witch to be messed with, he’d soon learn should he disobey her. It wasn’t long now before she’d see his face, and she’d be lying if she’d said that she wasn’t curious. Head tilting ever so slightly as she locked eyed with him. From what she recall, she’d never seen a wolf transform. From what she’d read and heard, it wasn’t a pleasant experience, but all that’d meant, was that she wanted to see it more. Whenever he’d growl or look in her direction for a moment too long, all it took was a simple lift of her wand to have him turn his face away from her, albeit somewhat reluctantly. When enough time had passed, she’d been on the brink of leaving until the morning until a horrific sound flooded the room. Almost a howl, almost a human scream, but somewhere in-between the two, though it had her eyes light up. She tipped forward inquisitively and watched. Watch the bones shift and break in the places they needed to to fit a human form. Watched his skin stretch awkwardly over her the fresh shape. Watched the once elongated teeth force themselves to fit into a much smaller mouth, until she was met with the panting naked form of Fenrir Greyback.

“Bravo, Witch.”

She wasn’t entirely certain what she’d thought his first words might’ve been. She’d hoped for him to beg. The house of Black were hardly unknown and the stories of what they’d done and would continue to do were known by both witches and creatures alike. Needless to say, his confidence irked her and she gripped her wand a little tighter for it.

“I’d watch your tone, mutt.”

“Or you’ll what? Tie me up again?”

“Oh...you sweet thing. You think that’s the only trick I have up my sleeve?”

“I wouldn’t know, love, but after our little scrap, you’ve barely got any sleeves left.”

Narcissa would be mortified if the positions were switched. Always so proud of herself when it came to her appearance, where as Bellatrix was almost the opposite. If anything, she was proud of her current state. Bloodied knuckles, wild hair, destroyed clothes. She’d won. Her clothes told the story for her. Fenrir pushed himself up standing, head rocking to either side for a loud crack to echo through the room, spine arched to align the bones in his back, and then both arms folded across his chest. Coincidentally, he was as surprised as she was about the reaction he was getting. It wasn’t a myth that wolves could smell fear, though it wasn’t entirely true. It was the scent of perspiration, the sound of a heart beat picking up in pace, and that was what he loved, though in this case, there was nothing. Bellatrix was as calm as if she’d just come home from a walk in the park. He took a slow step forward, anticipating the lift of her wand, though it never came. He took another, bare feet making a quiet sticking sound against the concrete beneath him, and in a few steps he was nose to nose. Well, almost. He was taller, if only by a few inches, but she kept her eyes locked on his the entire time.

“So now what?”

“Now, I leave. I might be back in the morning, or I might leave you here to starve. We’ll find out which.”

“You paid to bring me here to starve?”

“Like I said, we’ll find out.”

Unafraid as she was, she wasn’t stupid, so she took measured steps from the room. Striding backwards as the naked man watched her from across the way. Currently, while he’d be awaiting his fate, she’d be trying to figure out what she actually wanted to do with him. He’d been purchased on a whim, but he was...entertaining. He wasn’t frightened, though she’d soon fix that. The bold ones were always the most fun to break. Once she’d ascended the stairs and had started making her way to bed, she hadn’t even realised there’d been something of a smile on her face until Andromeda had mentioned it.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Smiling, Bella. That’s what that look is on your face.”

“Oh do go away, Andromeda.”

“Your thrill for taking risks will kill you one day, you know?”

“Will it? Well, it won’t be at the hands of a dog, so you have nothing to worry about for now, sister.”

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“I have to say I am.”

“I mean him. You’re enjoying him. You were down there all night, Bellatrix.”