Blue Moon by celisnebula
Summary: Fenrir Greyback’s propensity to viciously attack humans in an effort to create more werewolves causes problems for an American on vacation.
Categories: Festival Entries Characters: None
Genres: Drama
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 4972 Read: 891 Published: 08/30/2007 Updated: 08/30/2007

1. Blue Moon by celisnebula

Blue Moon by celisnebula
1981 – East Proctor, inside the Slaughtered Lamb Pub

“You can’t let them go,” the waitress whispered.

“Should the world know our business?” came the angry hiss from a middle-aged man, fingering the tip of his dart.

The chess player in the corner looked up, his hand hovering over the castle piece. “It’s murder then,” he said without inflection, as if discussing the weather, picking the chess piece up.

“Then murder it is!” The middle-aged man grunted, throwing the dart with all of his might at the board. “It’s in God’s hands now.”

The pub fell quiet again, save for the sound of the rain tapping against the windows. No one spoke, trying to pretend that it was just a normal raining night – trying to forget the monster under the bed.

“Perhaps they’ll be safe in the rain,” the waitress said, breaking the silence.

The chess player slammed his hand down on the table, causing the waitress to flinch. “No one brought them here!” he shouted. “No one wanted them here!”

“We could’ve told them,” she shot back.

“Are you daft?” the middle-aged dart player asked, whipping around to stare at the waitress. “What do you think they’d say? They’d think us mad.”

The occupants of the pub fell silent again. A faint, distant howl echoed above the pattering sound of the rain.

“Did you hear it? We must go to them!” implored the waitress.

The dart player stared at her for a moment. “I heard nothing,” he grunted, turning back to his game.

Another howl sounded in the distance.

“Nor I,” whispered the chess player, his face pale.

~~oOo~~


1981 – East Proctor, somewhere on the moors

Two young men trampled through the wet darkness, backpacking their way across the English moors. The rain, which had been pouring down upon them, slowed to a light drizzle. The howl of an animal, somewhere in the distance, broke their companionable silence. It was followed by another – long and loud – terrifyingly closer.

“Shit! David, what is that?” Jack asked with an edge of panic in his voice.

“I don’t know,” David replied. “Come on.”

“Come on, where?”

“Anywhere!” David exclaimed, walking faster. “I think we should just keep moving.”

Jack lengthened his stride, matching the brisk pace of his companion. “I vote we go back to the Slaughtered Lamb.”

“Yeah –

A low, guttural growl – followed by the sound of twigs snapping – interrupted David’s response.

“It’s moving,” David whispered.

“Fuck!” Jack muttered. “It’s circling us.”

~~oOo~~


1981 – East Proctor, somewhere on the moors

The scent of rain and sheep filled his nostrils, and underneath – the coy, sweet scent of two humans. He took a deep breath, no scent of magic, two Muggle humans.

Not only would he be showing his presence – as Lord Voldemort wished – he could also have a little fun. The wet grass tickled his feet as he stalked forward – his naked, wet skin itching as the time for transformation approached.

~~oOo~~


1981 – East Proctor, somewhere on the moors

The two travelers raced through the craggy fields, trying to outmaneuver the animal chasing them. A long, piercing howl brought them to an abrupt stop. Directly in front of them, in the far distance, stood a dark, hulking shape – barely discernible, save for its eerily glowing eyes and ragged breathing.

“Oh shit. What is that? Do you think it’s a dog?” Jack asked, panting slightly, panic making his voice squeaky.

“A sheep dog or something,” David gasped. “Turn slowly and let’s walk away.”

“Nice doggie,” Jack wheezed, walking slowly backwards. “Good boy.”

“Walk away, Jack.”

“Walking away, yes, sir.” Jack turned around. “Here we are walking away.”

They started to run, the air filled with the sounds of their heavy panting.

“See anything?” David puffed.

“No.”

Behind them, the animal howled.

“It sounds far away,” David said, slowing down. The adrenaline in his system couldn’t prevent the soreness of fatigued muscles.

“Not far enough,” replied Jack.

David suddenly fell, slipping in the mud. He let out a sharp “oomph” as his body hit the ground, startling Jack.

“You really scared me, you shithead,” Jack yelled, staring down at his mud-covered friend.

“Are you going to help me up?”

Jack leaned down, offering David his hand, when suddenly the animal pounced. It brought Jack down in one fell swoop – claws and teeth ripping into the helpless man.

David scrambled to his feet and started to run.

“Jesus fuck! David!” Jack screamed. The werewolf grunted as Jack fought back, but the werewolf was far stronger – pinning the man to the ground as he savaged him.

Jack?” David turned back. “Oh my God, Jack!” David ran towards Jack and the werewolf, only to fall again.

“Please help me! Please! David! Shit! Help me! Oh, God!” Jack screamed a final time.

David pushed himself up and raced towards the sound of Jack’s screams. On the wet, muddy ground lay Jack’s mangled body. “Jack!” he cried out. “Jack…”

The werewolf pounced on him, teeth sinking into David’s shoulder. Instinctively, he elbowed the werewolf, and he tried to flatten himself to the ground. The werewolf howled, scraping along David’s arms in an attempt to turn him over. In the far distance, shots rang out.

The last thing David saw before he fainted was a group of men from the Slaughtered Lamb running towards him, shotguns at the ready, torches hoisted high.

~~oOo~~


1981 – East Proctor, somewhere on the moors

“Do we know who attacked them?” the Obliviator asked, scanning the area.

“No, not really, but it wouldn’t surprise me at all to hear it was Greyback,” responded Villiers, the older Auror.

“Fuck me… it’s amazing that one survived then,” muttered McManus, a gangly Auror with scraggly brown hair.

“I don’t think he’d agree with you,” Villiers quipped. “Changing into an unthinking beast every month isn’t exactly my idea of surviving.”

“Will St. Mungo’s be taking him in, since he’s a Muggle?” McManus asked.

The Obliviator shook his head. “The villagers think they’ve killed a deranged lunatic – couldn’t entirely erase the idea that it was a werewolf from their minds, so I modified the memory so they think it was an insane person pretending to be a wolf. They’ll be sending the survivor to their own medical establishment.”

“We’ve got to do something,” McManus muttered.

“There’s nothing to do,” replied the Obliviator. “According to the Ministry, now that the Muggles have been contained – they think they’ve killed it – it’s not our problem.”

“But – but he’s been bitten!”

“As I said, it’s not our problem. The medical staff at St. Mungo’s has been notified – they’ll deal with the situation.”

~~oOo~~


London – St. Bartholomew's Hospital

Sunlight streamed into a small, sterile hospital room, bathing the injured man in golden light. With the exception of his right shoulder, most of the injuries covering his face and arms appeared to be superficial. On his left forearm, an IV of plasma slowly dripped down.

“Jack!” he screamed out, causing a nurse to rush into the room.

“Mr. Kessler?”

She rushed to his bedside, lifting his eyelids with her thumb so she could look into his eyes.

“Mr. Kessler?” she called out again, but there was no response. She picked up the chart at the end of the bed and quickly scanned it.

As she checked the chart, an older gentleman, wearing a customary lab coat, entered the room. The nurse handed over the chart.

“Dr. Hirsch,” she said hesitantly. “Mr. Kessler cried out, not more than a minute ago.”

“What exactly did he call out, Nurse Price?”

“He said ‘Jack’.”

“Ah,” said the Doctor. “That would be Jack Goodman, the boy who was killed.”

Nurse Price nodded her head and moved towards the door, pausing just as she reached it. “What happened to them?” she asked, hand hovering over the door handle.

“The police report said an escaped lunatic attacked them. He must have been a very powerful man…” he trailed off. “Though I don’t see how that is any of your concern, Nurse Price.”

“No, sir. Of course, sir,” she replied, opening the door. “Good day, Doctor.”

~~oOo~~


London – Alex Price’s London Flat

Alex walked into her apartment, withdrawing a slender wand. With a quick swish of the wand, the door closed securely behind her. She muttered a small, “Incendio,” pointing the wand at the fireplace.

Toeing off her shoes, she walked over to the mantel, reaching for an innocuous jar. Her fingers shifted through the grainy sand as she grabbed a fist full of Floo powder.

She threw the powder into the hearth, calling out, “St. Mungo’s – Hippocrates Smethwyck.”

A face appeared.

“Ah, Alex,” it said, “and how is our little Muggle doing today?”

“He woke up briefly – calling for his friend, Jack.”

“Jack?”

Alex nodded. “Yes, the young man who was killed.”

Healer Smethwyck looked thoughtful for a moment. “Perhaps the Memory Charm is working then – it doesn’t always in these sorts of cases.”

“So…” Alex hesitated. “He might be saf –”

“No, I’m afraid not,” the Healer interrupted. “He is definitely infected – anyone bitten by a werewolf is infected.”

“Will he be moved to St. Mungo’s then?”

“I’m afraid that isn’t possible – he is a Muggle… the repel charms wouldn’t let him through.”

“But he needs treatment,” Alex responded. “He can’t get the type of treatment he needs inside St. Bartholomew's – they’re already raising their eyebrows over how fast he’s healed.”

Healer Smethwyck sighed. “Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do. Whilst being a werewolf does make him a magical creature, the simple fact is he is a Muggle – the magical constraints on St. Mungo’s would make it impossible for him to walk through the doors.”

“It’s nearly time for another full moon. What are we supposed to do? Let him roam free?” Alex gave a harsh, barking laugh. “Oh, yes, I can see how well that will go over.”

“Then you’ll just have to invite him home. That way you can monitor him whilst giving him proper treatment.”

“What?” Shocked, Alex stared at the face in the fireplace. “You can’t seriously mean that!”

“There’s no other option, not at this point in time.”

“Surely the Ministry has someplace to put him – I mean it isn’t as if he’s the first Muggle to have been bitten.”

“Alex,” Healer Smethwyck drawled. “Don’t be deliberately difficult, you’ll be perfectly safe and well compensated.”

“Difficult?!” she yelled. “You think I’m being difficult because I don’t want a savage, mindless beast in my home? Are you bloody insane?”

“You’ve started slipping him bits of Wolfsbane Potion, haven’t you?”

Alex nodded.

“Then he should be perfectly contained.” Healer Smethwyck paused for a moment. “You know there isn’t any other choice right now. He has to be monitored until other arrangements can be made; he can’t just wander around.”

“This is going above and beyond the call of duty, don’t you think?” Alex waved her arms at the flat behind her. “This is my home!”

“What would you have me do, Alex?”

“I don’t know, something – anything else,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Alex…” Healer Smethwyck sighed.

“I –” Alex started and then stopped. With a soft shake of her head, she began again. “There really isn’t any other choice, is there?”

“I’m afraid not.”

~~oOo~~


London – St. Bartholomew's Hospital

David cut off a gasp as the needle went into his flesh, blinking his eyes against the stark, bright whiteness of the hospital room. Nurse Price held a syringe in her right hand, while Doctor Hirsch took his pulse, and the estimable Mr. Collins from the American Embassy scurried out the door.

“How long have I been here?” David asked thickly, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

“You’ve been unconscious since you were brought in two weeks ago,” the doctor replied.

“Two weeks?”

“You’ve suffered some rather severe cuts and bruises – lost a lot of blood,” Doctor Hirsch told him. “Nothing too serious, black and blue for a while. You’ll have some dueling scars to boast of. That lunatic must have been a very fierce fellow. They do say a mad man has the strength of ten.”

“Lunatic?” David asked softly, feeling sluggish.

“Now we’ve given you a pretty strong sedative, so try to get some rest now,” Hirsch said, patting David’s arm. “Nurse Price will see to your needs. Rest now.”

Alex pulled the covers over David’s chest, straightening and smoothing the blankets over him.

“It wasn’t a lunatic,” David slurred.

“I beg your pardon?” Alex asked.

“It was a wolf,” David said softly, so softly that Alex couldn’t hear him.

“What?” she asked, bending her head down.

“A wolf,” he slurred just before he passed out.

Alex gave a panicked look to the doctor.

“Did he say a wolf?” the doctor asked.

“Yes,” Alex replied weakly. “I believe he did.”

Doctor Hirsch gave David a thoughtful look and then shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “Poor boy’s been through so much.”

~~oOo~~


London – Diagon Alley

Alex rushed down the cobbled path of Diagon Alley to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Brandishing the required Galleons, she selected one of the rental owls to send Healer Smethwyck a quick message.

He thinks he was attacked by a wolf.

~ Alex


“Please see that this is delivered immediately,” she told the owl, giving him a small stroke. “It’s very important.”

The owl nodded its head, spread its impressive wings, and was off in a flash.

~~oOo~~


London – St. Bartholomew's Hospital

David bolted upright in his bed, furiously blinking as he tried to gain his bearings. He focused on the sleeping figure of Nurse Price, crimped up uncomfortably in the side chair, a copy of Connecticut Yankee folded on her lap. Taking in a gulping breath, he tried to calm himself – the dreams, while vivid, where just that – only dreams.

He slowly reached over and switched the lamp beside his bed on. Then, as gently as possible, he tugged the book off Alex’s lap. The movement startled her, and she snapped awake.

Blinking her eyes, she let out a small yawn, and then smiled softly at David.

“Hello,” she said sleepily. “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” David whispered softly.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, stretching in the chair. “Can I get you something?”

“No, thank you.” David shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. “Just keep me company for a while.”

“That’s easy enough,” Alex laughed.

David leaned forward, cultivating an air of confidence. “I keep having these really terrible dreams,” he whispered. “They’re getting worse, and I can’t seem to stop them.”

Alex sighed softly, gently cupping his cheek.

“David, your dreams will stop,” she assured him. “You’ll leave England and all your bad memories – all of this – will all fade away.”

He looked into her eyes.

“Will you come with me?”

“What?” She dropped her hand from his face.

A smile lit his face, making him look youthful, carefree, and terribly handsome. He reached for her hand.

“I’m serious. You don’t know me, and I don’t know nothing about you.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “We have a perfect relationship.”

Alex threw her head back, and let out a lovely giggle. “Now, David,” she said, still laughing. “I said I would keep you company, but I meant right here and now.”

David tugged her hand to his chest, placing her palm right over his heart.

“Will you think about it?” he asked earnestly.

“How did we get from your bad dreams to my taking a holiday with a patient?”

“Not just a patient.” He shot her another bone melting smile. “Me.”

Alex blushed and pulled her hand from his chest.

“You’re being awfully forward, aren’t you?” Her tone was serious.

“Forgive me,” David said, trying to backtrack. He had obviously gone too far. “I’m trying to cheer myself up and,” he smiled again, “an affair with a beautiful nurse seemed like just the thing to do it.”

Alex quirked an eyebrow, and asked, “All I am to you is a sex fantasy then?”

David’s face flushed.

“Now I’m embarrassed,” he said softly.

“Good,” she replied firmly. “I thought for a moment I was the only embarrassed one in the room.”

An awkward silence filled the room, and David sighed. He handed the book back to Alex.

“Where were we in the book?” he asked.

~~oOo~~


London – Alex Price’s London Flat

Alex grabbed a fist full of Floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. She called out, “St. Mungo’s,” and stepped into the greenish fire.

The fireplace spat her out on the ground floor. Alex stalked down the hall towards the staircase, ignoring the comments of the portraits trying to get her attention. She took the stairs to the first floor, two at a time, until she reached the Dai Llewellyn ward.

Then, without even knocking, she entered Healer Smethwyck’s small office, stating, “We’ve got a problem.”

Hippocrates paused, quill in hand – a dollop of ink pooling on the parchment – and muttered, “Hello to you too, Alex.”

“I’m serious.” Alex closed the office door, crossed over to Hippocrates’ desk, and plopped down. “He’s not eating – and since he’s not eating, it means he’s not getting the Wolfsbane Potion down.”

“Ah, your pet werewolf.”

“He’s not my pet werewolf,” she protested.

Hippocrates snorted.

“He’s not my pet,” Alex muttered. “He’s an unfortunate man – a man who might bloody well cause no end of problems if something doesn’t happen.”

“He obviously likes you…”

“So?” Alex narrowed her eyes.

Healer Smethwyck shrugged. “So use it.”

“But – I – err – but,” Alex stammered, her face flushing.

“I see.” Hippocrates set down his quill. “You know it’s perfectly natural, just because he’s been bitten doesn’t mean he can’t, or won’t, affect women on a basic level – in fact, there have been several studies recently that suggest a male werewolf’s pheromones during the rising moon cycle are astronomical, so of course you’re affected by it.”

“Yes, well, that is not the issue,” Alex stated, blushing harder.

“It doesn’t have to be, unless you make it one.” He sat back in his chair, tapping the quill against the top of the desk. “In fact, this could work to our advantage. He has to come to your flat – so why not use the attraction you both obviously feel?”

“That’s highly unethical, Hip!”

“Oh, Alex, it’s only unethical if you were his physician – you’re not, so there’s no conflict of interest.”

“It’s only until the full moon passes, Alex. I’ve contacted someone overseas in the American Wizarding community, and he’s assured me that they can quite handle his situation.”

“So basically we’re shipping him off, pretending that it’s not our responsibility? How is that not unethical? One of our werewolves bit him – we should be the one ensuring he is taken care of!” Alex hissed.

Hippocrates dropped the quill and brought his hands up, as if to ward off her anger.

Alex glared at him.

“I’ve followed policy, Alex. He’s a Yank – and there are certain protocols that must be taken care of.”

“I’ll try – I can’t guarantee success,” she said after a moment.

“Just get him the Wolfsbane – hopefully we can neutralize him enough so he doesn’t infect others.”

~~oOo~~


London – St. Bartholomew's Hospital

A scream from the vicinity of David Kessler’s room reverberated against the hospital walls. Alex paused for a moment, then pivoted around, racing towards the sound. Without knocking, she burst into his room.

David was thrashing from side to side in his bed, whimpering softly.

Alex rushed to his side, pulled the table tray away from the bed, and sat down.

“David! David?” she called out, pulling him into her embrace.

David jerked away from her, his body shuddering wildly.

“David,” Alex said forcefully. His eyes snapped open and focused on her face. He shuddered once last time, before relaxing.

“What’s wrong?” Alex whispered.

He leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed softly, sinking against her softness.

“Dav –”

The rest of his name was cut off as his lips descended on hers in a soft, tentative kiss. Alex gripped his shoulders, returning his kiss.

“I’m a werewolf,” he said quietly against her lips.

“A werewolf?”

She pulled him tight against her, and then suddenly, realizing where they both were, released him. David tried to compose himself.

“Are you better now?”

“I’ll let you know the next full moon,” he said savagely.

“You’re to be discharged tomorrow.” She hesitated a moment, and then placed her hand on top of his. “Will you be all right?”

“My friend Jack was just here,” he confessed, his voice so low and soft Alex wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

“Your dead friend Jack?”

David nodded. “He says that I will become a monster in two days. What do you think?”

“What do I think?” She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. “You mean about the possibility of your becoming a monster in two days? Or about the visits from dead friends?”

David sighed. “Perhaps I was dreaming again?”

“I would think so.”

“Yeah,” he said, as if voicing the sentiment, it would make it true. “I would think so too.”

Alex stared at David for a minute, gauging his receptiveness, before finally saying, “Do you have a place to stay… in London, that is?”

~~oOo~~


London – Diagon Alley

Alex practically ran down the cobbled pathway to Eeylops Owl Emporium.

“I’d like to purchase parchment and a quill, please,” she told the store clerk, panting.

“Three Sickles,” the clerk said, setting a stained piece of parchment and a tattered quill on the countertop.

Alex dug through her purse, pulling out the required three Sickles and an extra four Galleons. She handed the Sickles over to the clerk, and quickly snatched up the quill.

He thinks he’s seeing his dead friend, Jack. I’m not sure if he’s dreaming it, or really believes this to be the case.

He firmly believes he’s a werewolf… is there anything I should do to dissuade him of that notion right now?

~ Alex


She folded the parchment up, handed the Galleon over to the clerk, and requested the fastest owl. “It’s very important,” she assured him.

The clerk palmed the Galleon and disappeared into the back, returning with the same owl Alex had used last time. She hastily tied the parchment to the owl’s leg and watched with some trepidation as it flew off.

~~oOo~~


London – Alex Price’s London Flat

David languidly traced a pattern on Alex’s back. Hard to believe that he was here – in her flat, much less her bed. Alex turned her head on the pillow, giving him a sleepy smile. David leaned over and gave her a soft kiss.

“Alex?” he asked, pulling back.

“Yes?”

“Will you be here in about fifteen minutes?”

Alex wrinkled her brow. “Of course.”

David gave her a leering grin and said, “Good,” in a suggestive voice.

Alex rolled over and propped herself up on one elbow, studying him for a moment.

“David, you don’t honestly believe that your friend Jack rose from the grave to breakfast with you the other day? Do you?”

David dropped back against the bed, his amorous mood squashed.

“I was awake,” he said flatly, “and he was in my room.”

“But, David…”

He turned his head to look at her.

“I wasn’t hallucinating, Alex.”

She stared at him for a full minute before softly saying, “Tomorrow’s the full moon.”

“That’s good, Alex,” he said sarcastically, pushing a rough hand through his hair. “Reassure me.”

Alex giggled, and gave his neck a small kiss, as if to say I can reassure you.

“It’s all right,” he sighed. “I know I’m being insane.”

Alex trailed kisses down his sensitive neck, across his shoulders, dipping down to kiss his chest.

“Okay, okay!” he exclaimed as she kissed her way down his stomach. “I’m properly reassured!”

She let out a soft giggle as her head slowly traveled lower. David reached up, tightly grabbing a hold of the headboard.

Closing his eyes, he whispered, “This is very reassuring. I’m feeling very reassured.”

~~oOo~~


London – Alex Price’s London Flat, night of the full moon

Hippocrates Smethwyck’s face appeared in the fireplace. He watched Alex sitting on a side chair, clutching David’s torn t-shirt in one hand whilst trying to read a book.

He coughed, startling her.

“Hello?” she asked warily, before spying him. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Has he come back yet?” Hippocrates asked.

“No,” she said woodenly. “He hasn’t come back yet.”

“You’ll Floo me if he returns?”

“Yes, yes I will,” she said then paused. Hippocrates started to withdraw from the flames, when she continued, “I feel so helpless sitting here doing nothing, Hip.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Alex,” he reassured her. “The Aurors are looking for him – they’ll take care of everything if they find him.”

“Yes, I know, Hip. Thank you.”

“We will find him,” he told her again before ending the call.

~~oOo~~


London – Alleyway somewhere in the city center, night of the full moon

Alex burst out of the taxi carrying her and Doctor Hirsch, racing towards the police barricade.

“Let me through,” she screamed, trying to wedge her way past.

“Stand clear, miss!” yelled one of the officers, stepping in front of her.

“I must get through!” She dodged around him, racing into the alley, ignoring the shouts of, “stop,” from the police officers behind her.

The werewolf snarled, causing her to rear back in fear. Pulling her wand out, she walked cautiously towards the darkened end of the alley.

“David?” she called out. “Is it you?”

She gripped her wand so hard the wood grains bit into the flesh of her palm.

“David? Please…” she yelled again.

The werewolf reared up, and suddenly the police start to fire. The bullets tore into his flesh, and he howled in pain.

Under her breath, she muttered, “Petrificus Totalus.”

For some strange reason, it worked, binding David to the floor. She cast a Disillusionment Charm, concealing David’s werewolf form from the public, and then quickly Transfigured a piece of trash from the alley floor to look like David’s dead, normal body.

Exhausted, Alex leaned against the wall. The police and Doctor Hirsch rushed to her side. They led her from the back of the alley out into the street while the paramedics picked up the Transfigured body.

In the confusion, no one noticed the extra figures of Villiers, McManus, and one of the key Obliviators. It took nearly four hours of work, but by the end of that time, everyone who could have possibly seen David’s werewolf form had been Obliviated – their memories modified so that they believed a killer had been brought down right in front of their eyes.

Two days later, Alex Pierce and David Kessler were en route, by Portkey no less, to a remote area in the Catskill Mountains – the National American Werewolf reserves.

~~oOo~~


Author’s Notes:
Prompts:


XII. Crossover Heaven
Create a believable crossover between Harry Potter and the fandom of your choice.

XVI. Get Out of Your Box
This is the final book; let your imagination run wild! Pick an archive you've never posted to or read at and write a story that would fit there. Never wrote a Draco fic? Try and write something for Pureblood! Don't think you can wing a Weasley? Write something for The Burrow! If you're an author that posts to all archives, try the one you've written the least for or are the least comfortable with.

I think, since I’ve never done a (real) crossover before, it fits the “get out of your box” prompt.

In case you were wondering, this is an American Werewolf in London/Harry Potter cross over.

American Werewolf in London came out in 1981. The dialog from the Slaughtered Lamb and St. Bartholomew's Hospital (not the name of the hospital from the movie, since that was unnamed) are all from what I remember of the movie – I wanted those sequences to be as close to the movie as possible.

According to the Harry Potter Lexicon, Fenrir Greyback has been a Death Eater since the early 1970s, though there is no information as to when Greyback was actually bitten (though it has to be before the 70s since he bit Remus when Remus was a child).
This story archived at http://chaos.sycophanthex.com/viewstory.php?sid=2094