So Much for No Strings Attached

Chapter 80 A Werewolf's Tale

 

‘Thus, Filius will have possession of it,’ Minerva pursed her lips. ‘Although, he may not share it with me … I missed several discrepancies that I should have seen. I trusted Albus too much. Would you be averse to me joining you?’

 

Maybe that would be a good idea. Remus knew that what he was about to see was going to be hard. And, after all, having someone who was less emotionally invested in the truth would be a good idea and Remus could think of no one better than Minerva McGonagall.

 

‘I think I would like you to be there,’ admitted Remus.

 

 

 

 

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Flitwick agreed to allow them to use the Pensieve as long as he could accompany them so if there were any … irregularities he could report them to the Aurors. Remus wasn’t hugely comfortable with this agreement, but Minerva appeared to trust Flitwick and Remus trusted Minerva, so Remus didn’t argue too strongly against her.

 

 

They arrived in a mountainous region somewhere. There was snow on the ground so it was probably winter. A village of mismatched tents, caravans and self-built wooden lodges was evident. His eyes immediately went to Fenrir Greyback whose hair was still dark brown. Greyback perked up, sniffing the air carefully, gathering some other werewolves and moved quickly to the edge of the forest.

 

There was a young curvy woman probably not much older than twenty, wearing old, slightly torn jeans and a baggy faded sweatshirt and had mousy brown hair exactly the same shade as Remus’ own. Her amber eyes looked wild and scared as she stumbled into the werewolf village. Remus swallowed was … is … was he looking at his mother?

 

‘Hello … my pack … the hunters … they’re all dead … they’re all dead …’

 

The young werewolf was obviously distressed as she collapsed looking exhausted and completely spent, tears cascading down pale cheeks. Greyback kneeled down beside her and helped her to her feet.