It Rains

Thestrals and Werewolves

A second cut was followed by a third, and then one more until she seemed to be wearing a sort of ghoulish necklace. However, Laurel barely felt that acute burning, her absent mind was miles away, flying high, remembering the beautiful colours of the dawn above the clouds. She hadn't noticed Greyback starting to move down her body, rubbing his face against her abdomen until she felt his teeth dig into her skin, biting her savagely. The pain was visceral, the torn flesh letting blood gush out, spilling onto the bed, staining Greyback's face, who was swallowing it in a frantic way, making disgusting noises as he sucked it, moaning with satisfaction.

She closed her eyes and screamed loudly convinced that this would be her end. She tensed her body, trying to free herself from Greyback's grip, but he bit her a second time. Small black dots began to appear in her field of vision as she began to lose consciousness. Her breathing accelerated, as her heart's weak pulse thundered inside her head. Images flashed through her mind: Her mother, Fern, her little nephew who would never get to know his aunt. Her thoughts dwelt now on that night in Hackleton. She had decided to stay with Severus, despite the risk, despite everything, she had promised to help him finish his investigation... Loss of consciousness and seizures as a result of ingestion of at least 20 ml of blood sample... Those words written in the familiar cramped handwriting glowed in the growing darkness.

Laurel blinked a couple of times, clinging to that idea. Her own blood would be her salvation. Quite a dangerous gamble, if he wasn't affected in the same way as this Lupin lad, but Greyback was a huge man, how much more he had to drink? She gritted her teeth and prayed that this last hope was real, she prayed it wouldn't take long to work. She had nothing to lose, if it didn't work out, she was sure she wouldn't get out of there alive.

That sparkle of hope made her adrenaline surge and she began to wriggle, trying to squirm herself free, it was then that she felt the thin shape of a magic wand with her knee. She reached out her hand carefully and was able to pull it out of his pocket, pointing it at him, ready to stab him in the eye.

Greyback looked up at her, his ragged beard dripping blood, his eyes wild. He roared and lunged for her neck, but before he could reach her jugular, he felt a stabbing pain in his stomach, as if he had consumed fiery embers. An icy sweat broke out on his body and a thick fog blinded him completely. His roar died away, turning into a gasp that then transformed into violent retches that shook his body. His arms and legs began to shake uncontrollably. Laurel watched in horror as the gigantic man fell with all his weight on her. His eyes rolled back, drooling a thick, reddish, frothy liquid. Laurel screamed for the elf, and with all her remaining strength, she pushed the heavy body aside.

She struggled to her feet, causing a new flow of blood to gush from the deep bites on her abdomen. Laurel tried to stop the bleeding, squeezing the wounds with her hand. She walked slowly toward Enoby, breathing jagged, fighting not to lose consciousness.

She shook the elf's shoulder a couple of times, but she didn't wake up. At least, she was sure, she was still breathing. Laurel then went to the cabinet where the ingredients of the potions were kept, desperately searching for something she could use to revive her. Her hands were shaking, and several jars fell to the ground, bursting and spilling their contents. She realized that beads of cold sweat fell into her eyes, preventing her from seeing, her breathing faster and shallower. She held onto the shelves, trying to stay on her feet, but her body gave way and she collapsed, taking with her the ledge she was holding on to, soaking herself up in the contents of the bottles, and getting hurt on the broken glass. She was about to give up, to close her eyes and drift into the serenity of unconsciousness when a bellow made her eyes widen.

Greyback had awakened. He was shaking, vomiting on the bed, searching with his watery eyes for the bitch that had caused him such an agonising pain.

"How dare you take my wand?! I'm going to kill you, scum!" - He managed to say before expelling another jet of vomit.