It was mostly raw or severely under-cooked meat being served at the table and the smell of it turned Remus Lupin's stomach. He sat at the head of the table, Spence and Storm to his right and left, half turned in his seat as though bored with the dinner, his fashionably expected cup of tea before him, steaming, aconite leaves floating inside, watching the other men and women at the table as they are their dinner in the loudest of silences. His eyes followed the spinning of the leaves on top of the tea as he tried to lose himself in thought - the sound of the chewing and of the other guests there making him even sicker and winding up his nerves with every moist sounding bite and swallow.

"You need to keep your strength," whispered Storm, leaning closer. "Won't you eat any of it?"

Remus shook his head, holding up a palm to push away the bowl of mash offered.

Spencer reached into a pocket and withdrew something. There was a snap and a moment later, he was offering a chunk of chocolate. He smiled as he held it out and Remus took it. Spencer looked at Storm, who stared at the chocolate with confusion, then looked to Spencer, who chuckled. "He can't resist chocolate."

Remus sighed and nodded, "It is true," he said, "I cannot resist a good bar of chocolate, whatever the moon might be doing to my interiors."

"Even the new moon weakens you, Alpha?" Greer's voice carried from across the table, where she sat, flanked by her own most trusted friends.

"As you know, the Lycanthrophy deepens each year," Remus said, "It takes its toll in many ways. For me, the New Moon means a sensitivity to the sound and smell of food... and blood." He eyed one of the roasts nearest to him which was so raw it still oozed. "Forgive my lack of appetite."

"If I had known I would not have invited you for a delegation dinner, but would have prepared a more traditional meeting area." Greer paused, then, "But that's right, too, I didn't invite you, but you invited yourself."

Greer was a beautiful woman with dark skin dappled with the milky white spots of vitiligo across her right cheek bone, curling up over her eyes and onto her forehead. Those markings, Remus knew, carried into her wolf form, as did her heterochromia iridium - two different colored eyes - the left being a dark brown and the right a piercing blue. Her black hair was twisted into a braid that fell down her back and over her shoulder, small silver beads knotted in at random intervals, which gave her an almost shining look. The scar that ran over her jawbone and down her throat to her collarbone was deep - she'd only just barely survived the swipe that had caused it - and her half-moon bite was prominent on her shoulder, close to the curve of her neck. The wide collared blouse she wore seemed chosen specifically to show her scar, as though it were being displayed upon her like jewelry.

Remus smiled, and nodded, "That's right, I did invite myself. Though I will say, I did not expect to find that I wasn't the only delegation visiting Blackburn today." His eyes strayed to the other four men at the table. 

One he recognized - an old friend of Fenrir Greyback's, a man named Ed, who had once led him through the thick trees of the Great North Woods to Greyback's home. Ed was not the delegate - no, he was too crude and harsh to be anything but a guard. The man Ed sat beside bore three scars that striped his face diagonally from temple to nose on the left side and wore a smart suit, well fitted as as tight as the smile on his face. Beside him sat a woman with wild blonde hair and eyes that seemed to see through to the very core of anyone she looked at. And past her was another guard - a bulky man who was only just barely smaller than Storm, with muscle so thick in his neck that it was nearly the same width as his head.

"And who are the others that have been invited?" Remus asked.

"Long has the Lupin pack been without leadership," replied the sharp-smiled man as he picked at the roast on his platter with his fingers - a common thing to see among werewolves, even ones of stature like this man. "The family Blackburn has need of assistance - assistance that their pack has failed to bring... but we, the wolves of Greyback and the North, we remember those who have been made by our Alpha. Despite their past disloyalties to us, we will see their needs met."

Remus scoffed. "And so you're a delegation from the North Woods."

"As I said, we see the need and have kept the Family Blackburn well fed." He waved a palm over the spread across the table. "As you can see. Because of our Alpha, Greer and her family will want for nothing."

Greer's eyes trained upon the silver goblet before her, her rings gleaming from her fingers as she traced the pattern etched into the stem.

"What Greer and her family would be best to remember," Remus said quietly, "Is that wealth is not what determines the quality of a life - only its temporary comforts. Any true needs can be met by her own pack's stores, which were always accessible to her, even when I have been away. Perhaps the pack's stores have fallen short of the luxuries which Greer has clearly begun to enjoy with Greyback's efforts to woo her, but to what end do those luxuries come?"

"Only the kindness of our Alpha's heart."

"Greyback has no heart," Remus said firmly. "He seeks only power and the forgiveness of the Dark Lord of the Wizarding World."

"Voldemort has been dead for thirteen years," the woman delegate said, looking up from the plate before her. The irises of her eyes were a funny shade of brown, close to red, and her eyes were sunken, heavy circles beneath them. "As you know better than anyone... given how close to the Potters you were."

Remus bristled at the way the name stung coming from her mouth in such a cruel tone. She cackled at his visible pained response. The man shook his head at her and she stopped, quieting, her gaze returning to the plate before her.

He looked to Remus. "Greyback no longer serves that Lord, and has not for thirteen years. Nor has his pack in the Great North Woods. We strive to make England a better place for werewolves of all sorts. The Ministry for Magic has overstepped in claiming leadership for the wolves, and they have never respected any of the pack leaders, much less the packs themselves. We seek to build and replace the Ministry for Magic - a  new Ministry of werewolves - with our own systems for registration and tracking that is respectful to our kind, unlike the Wizarding World has been. The Great North Woods - and Greyback, who has been the Alpha to more werewolves in England than any other Alpha has been --"

"Because he has turned them," Remus said.

"Do not speak as though you are innocent of having turned members of your pack as well, Mr. Lupin," the man's eyes flashed to Spencer, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat at Remus's side.

Storm's eyes slid to Spencer and then to Remus before refocusing on the tight-smiled man once more.

"An isolated necessity," Remus waved off the tone. 

"Perhaps not isolated, but a necessity all the same, our desires to create a unified Ministry for the werewolves of England is imperative. We are offering leadership roles to pack leaders and the heads of families who agree to come under the Ministry of Werewolves which we are working to form. No more fear of registration, no more moontides spent being hunted and rounded up by the Aurors.... fair laws, fair rights, fair stipends...."

"And all the cruelty of a dictator of blood and gore who eats children and the corpses of those whose lives he claims mercilessly," Remus said. "He turns children to grow his armies with those who are too weak to defend themselves from his attacks." He paused, "While being weak enough himself to have been defeated multiple times..." Remus sat upright, squaring his shoulders, "There is a reason why I am an Alpha and remain untethered to Greyback - despite him having been the one who turned me, and my pack all turned by Greyback." He paused, then added, "Save for one... which, as I said already, was by necessity. Greyback failed to keep his title against me and all of those who were in his pack at the time of his defeat are subject to my leadership, not his." Ed shifted and Remus's eyes darted to look at him, a smirk just under the deadly serious attitude, "It seems Ed here may just remember the reason why Greyback is not his true Alpha, but is only so by choice."

The tight-smiled man looked at Ed, then back to Remus. "I expect different results would be forthcoming if there were to be a new duel." His eyes travelled over Remus's weakened frame.

"Bite your tongue," hissed Spencer venomously.

At the same time, Storm growled, "Is that a challenge, Winston?"

The man, evidently called Winston, sipped from his wine in a bored manner, shrugging.

"Greyback is a wizard the same as you are," the woman beside Winston reminded Remus.

"A wizard, yes, but not the same as I am," Remus replied. "Our powers are not equal - his education was not completed."

"But the dark arts are stronger," she crooned, tilting her head in a creepy manner that admittedly made Remus's skin set to crawling. She sneered, her teeth bared, amusement in her eyes as she looked from Remus to Greer, who stared at her goblet still, very purposefully keeping her eyes adverted.

"The dark arts are superficially powerful," Remus murmured. "And they are defeated every time by magic rooted deeper than shadows can reach."

The woman's sneer only deepened, "The weak always like to believe so, yes, but it is the darkness which consumes all things in the end."

"The Dark Lord was defeated by love magic," Remus said firmly.

"Was he?" Winston whispered.

Remus felt his spine tingle. It was as though Winston's question had set a dementor over the table, everything seemed to go cold and still and the others around the table glanced nervously at one another as Remus locked eyes with Winston.

"What are you insinuating?" Remus questioned.

"What you already know deep down," Winston said. "The Dark Lord ain't defeated and soon he will rise all the more powerful than he ever was." He paused. "Your friends died for nothing."

Remus raised his wand without thinking and the jet of light shot across the table and Winston's face exploded with blood from his nose, his head snapping backward from the force of the magic that punched him. The woman next to him flew to her feet as she let out a shriek and the other occupants of the table all seemed to react in different ways - the two guards flanking Winston and the woman beside him stood and drew firearms, Storm stood as well, blocking Remus with the bulk of his body. Greer was up, her own guards on either side of her, two other men at the end of the table were up, wands raised. Winston, Remus, and Spencer all remained seated.

"James Potter had more honor than your entire pack combined," snarled Spencer, eyes wild with anger, "He and Lily defeated the Dark Lord, and their son lived to see the sun rise after Voldemort's body fell dead to the carpet." His nose flared with passion as he spoke.

Winston wiped his nose with the back of his hand and looked toward Remus and Spencer, anger glaring in his eyes. "All who resist against the Dark Lord will be slaughtered," he said lowly. "Greyback and his leaders will enjoy feasting on your bones."

Greer closed her eyes, her jaw set.

"A truly compassionate threat from a leader who dreams of a New Ministry to protect his people," Remus said with an eyeroll. He looked at Storm and touched his arm to indicate for him to sit down. Storm looked reluctant, glancing toward the muggle guns held in the grasp of the guards flanking Winston. "Do not hesitate to be seated, my friend," Remus said firmly, "Their firearms hold no power."

The guards looked at their firearms and both pulled triggers that did not fire. They looked to Winston. He did not break his stare at Remus for several moments, however, and when he did it was to look to Greer. "It is up to you, Greer, whether you follow us or stay with your Alpha. But know that the New Ministry will rise, backed by the most powerful wielder of Dark Magic there is... and there are benefits for coming onto our side now, before the fighting begins. Protection, for you and your pack."

Greer hesitated.

"They say they offer protections," Remus's voice was a warning tone, "But they can only protect  you from that which they themselves will subject on others."

"The Ministry has come calling 'round here countless times in your absence, Remus," Greer said coldly, her eyes meeting his. "Countless times I have had to stand my ground, refuse the names of my family members. We have hidden ourselves away behind a portrait to keep Chase Volsung from finding us on Full Moons. We are hunted, Remus. Our rights are stripped, our pockets empty, our cupboards bare. We have young who we have had to change to protect them from ourselves on full moon nights because there is none who would care for them that will not turn us over to the Ministry for Magic. We are in a chokehold. And how many times have we reached out to find you, how many times have we sent people looking, knocking on your door, trying desperately to get help from our so-called leader? Countless. But you haven't come. And these people - this other pack - they are willing --"

"They are evil, whatever banners of kindness they hide behind," Remus replied.

"They are doing more than you," Greer's voice was sharp and finality rose in her tone. She looked between the two of them. "Prove yourselves worthy of my allegiance and I shall give it. Until then, my pack and I stand alone."

Storm looked at Remus.

The woman beside Winston hissed.

"Now, I tire of these arguments and petty words. Sort yourselves out elsewhere. Both of your welcomes have worn out."