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Concrete Jungle	By : AmandaJean Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3615 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men or Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: Hello! Just to let you know, the slash pairing in this would be between two of my favorite characters from two different fandom's. Fenrir Greyback and Victor Creed aka Sabretooth...
Let me know what you think.
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Concrete Jungle

Chapter 1

The war was over, and the Dark Lord lost. The side Fenrir Greyback choose in order to give Werewolves a stronger standing rather than being shit on and treated like common animals by the oh so proud wizards and witches alike. He quickly learnt that healing from his own injuries wasn’t an easy task, but it was far easier then dealing with betrayal and loss. His pack lost a great deal of members because they like him fought in the war. They were either captured or killed. Those who didn’t die or get captured decided that Fenrir Greyback failed as the alpha of the pack and failed to lead them to a better future.

He was exiled.

They would rather live a lie and try to get a life for themselves that didn’t involve risks and fights against hateful wizards and witches. They preferred to live caged up lives where they deny what they are and drink that poison Wolfsbane and play by one-sided rules. The cowards! So Fenrir pretty much told them they could screw themselves and left, but with a secret broken heart and anger at being betrayed the whole world could see.

Fenrir Greyback did the unthinkable when he was exiled though. He fled the wizarding world completely and traveled the world of muggles. And he was learning a lot too, so many things that he didn’t know about the magic-less meat sacs he didn’t know before. And he learnt that, despite the lack of magic it was just like the wizarding world in so many interesting and rather amusing ways.

His latest travels took him to New York. Such a busy place to say the least! Fenrir rubbed his head in slight confusion as to where he should go next. Truthfully said this was his first time in New York, he’s been in other places of course, but never to this place. So it was obvious that he had some exploring to do. Perhaps he will find something to amuse him in this place. It’s been quite some time since he’s had some good entertainment, it’s been too long since he ate the flesh of a human and had some good old fun with his chosen range of victims.

The sound of children caught his attention, two boys and two girls with three adults. Not to mention too many other people around as well, and he wasn’t sure how general Americans would react to a kid being snatched up. So he decided not to deal with the headache. Not to mention his kind of fun today required someone who knew what they were doing.

So instead he kept wondering until finally he managed to find a bar that looked relevantly out of the way of the general public or more correctly local authorities since he has a criminal record now in the muggle world. On the way he came into possession of the local newspaper. The pictures didn’t move, but that was easy to get over. Poor little muggles didn’t really understand what they’re missing out on.

Sitting down at the end of the bar, away from the general public of drunken morons and nobodies and indicated that he wanted the girlie to come over. She did so, obediently though with an annoyed expression on her face that he smirked.

“What will it be?” She asked, and Fenrir couldn’t help, but snort slightly. The girlie made her point known rather quickly; it was annoying, but Fenrir’s dealt with worse. At least she wasn’t looking down on him like wizards would. Helped a little that he cleaned himself up good, put his hair up though it wasn’t brushed. Even his claws had a clean appearance to them. Which was sad thing, he missed the crested on blood and dirt. It seemed more honest than this cleanliness.

“What no ‘hello how are you’? Where are your manners girlie?” Fenrir taunted as he smirked at her frown turned to a full-fledge glare. The girl had spunk to her; a fight in her Fenrir would have loved to break her out of. She was obviously new, and obviously wasn’t here long enough to be completely free to back talk customers because she was gritting her teeth as if debating whether or not the job was good enough to deal with attitudes like Fenrir’s.

“Sorry, hello how are you.” She gritted out, sarcasm though was dripping in her words. Fenrir just chuckled at that, he wasn’t about to let anything like that get to him. It was easier to deal with then everything else he’s been forced to deal with, and he still couldn’t get over the fact that a mere boy who was in all counts was only a nobody to Fenrir managed to best the Dark Lord. Pathetic. Though he did hear the whelp was showing interest in the Weasley girl, maybe one day if they had kids he could pop by and pay them a visit. Especially a young little Teddy Lupin. He still remembered how Remus tasted. Delicious.

“I’m doing fine girlie. Long trip, would like a Molson’s Canadian now.” Fenrir sarcastically bit back at her. He’s ordered a Molson’s Canadian because during his time in the muggle world that became one of his favorite drinks. But other than Molson’s he tended to go for whiskeys of any kind. So long as it wasn’t watered down in any way. She stomped off and fetched him just that, though he didn’t grace the bartender with any attention as he turned his attention to the paper he now had unfolded.

There was a two page article written by someone called Charles Xavier about mutants and whatnot. Fenrir learnt about them too during his time in the muggle world, came to blows with a short guy with weird hair too. Claws-knives coming out of the back of his hands. Fenrir barely got away from the runt of a berserker. Feisty fighter that one. Hard to get away from too without using magic, could have sworn the little guy was literally sniffing him out. Fenrir bite him once, and learnt that the sawed off nobody bites back. Hurt too, he still had the scars it made on his arm. That and three scars across his stomach to show just how sharp those claw-knives were.

In the end he got away. And that was part of the reason that changed his directions and in the end led him to this bar.

For a brief moment, Fenrir could have sworn he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Shoving that feeling away since he was at a bar with a few people who were already watching him, Fenrir downed his drink quickly and indicated for another and flipped the page after skimming through the whole mutant babble to an article about a killer who got off scot-free for five counts of murder and six counts of rape. The Prosecutor of that case was someone called Murdock or something. The Murdock guy claimed that the Defense lawyer was corrupt as was everyone else. After all, how else could a guy like Creed get off that easy? Fenrir hummed slightly; maybe he should look into getting that defense lawyer to clear his name in the muggle world.

“Him a ‘cary guy ‘at Creed.” A drunk slurred off to Fenrir’s right, the guy obviously was just coming from the bathroom with a rather loose looking girl.

“How so?” Fenrir hummed, leaning back in his chair and regarded the poorly dressed slob of a drunk. Human. Dirty, not even good enough to snack on. Fenrir was getting to a point where he didn’t care too much about that. But he held off.

“Him big ‘n ‘trong ‘n mean.” The drunk explained in what he must have thought was intelligent speech. Fenrir could talk better when drunk! But he waved the man off who seemed to be happy to be pulled off by the girl who was giggling and cooing as if she were good looking. A witch with warts would look better! Fenrir snorted to himself at the image that created as he kept reading. Ignoring everything about X-Men, Avengers and what not. What a bunch of stupid names! No wonder Pure-Bloods tended to look down on muggles even more than mudbloods. Though Fenrir was not better, but at least he did it without as much discrimination. Well, mostly.

Fenrir folded the newspaper back up, tucking it in his jacket he finished off his drink, calling for two more and finishing those as well before slapping some money down onto the tabletop and leaving. The girlie muttered ‘asshole’ behind him but he didn’t care. His mind was on the chances of getting his name cleared so he didn’t have to worry about muggle authorities pestering him. And perhaps he could get this guy who helped the Creed guy out to help him out as well. If not than Fenrir will simply eat him. Literally.

It was a win-win situation.

But first he had to figure out where this guy lived, so he went to the office the newspaper said the guy worked. But that ended up leaving him with nothing at all. The guy was out and was mildly annoyed at the fear the girlie showed when he mentioned that the guy was able to get this Creed guy off. What was so scary about Creed? Though Fenrir never saw any photos of the guy or wouldn’t be able to point him out in a crowd if he saw him. But still, all he wanted was the defense lawyer not the man he defended.

He shockingly enough left the small lawyers building in one piece and didn’t curse the girlie dead with Avada Kedavra. Yes he knew that spell, what Death Eater or former Death Eater didn’t? Werewolf he may be, but he was far from stupid and incapable. Not for the first time during the day since leaving the lawyers office he could have sworn he was being watched, defenses up he kept moving forward with his plans.

Storming around the city for most of the day until the sun started to go down Fenrir finally decided to enter a rather large flashy looking club, he will find himself a victim to play with then eat here. Something to take the edge off and put him in a better mood. And the muggle club had catchy music that’s for sure. There were large black windows looking over the entire thing. And the whole floor was already swimming with moving bodies. Young people who were well on their way in getting drunk and having a good time. He kept his eyes out for whoever would satiate him tonight.

Nothing yet. So he sat down at the bar and ordered whisky. But instead of getting it the bartender had something whispered into his ear, a brisk nod then the bartender approached the spot where he sat.

“You’re invited to the VIP lounge upstairs, the VIP 1 is on the door. This key will let you in.” The bartender said, loud enough for Fenrir to hear. Fenrir frowned slightly as he eyed the key with distrust.

“Who’s invited me?” Fenrir asked as he tipped his slightly pointed ear in the man’s direction. He noticed that the man looked at it for a moment and it dawned on Fenrir, this guy might think he was a mutant rather than actually knowing that Fenrir was a werewolf instead.

“You don’t know? Well friend that might not be a good thing on your part. But I suggest you don’t keep him waiting, he’s not always known for his patience.” The bartender explained, a flash of detached concern was shown, but it quickly passed. The guy was obviously paid enough to not care.

“Who?” Fenrir asked as he mentally prepared himself to defend himself in any situation. Not for the first time remembering the whole being watched feeling.

“Mr. Creed.” The bartender informed him and held the keys out a little more. Wanting to get ride of him no doubt.

Fenrir recognized the name instantly and his attention went to the newspaper that suddenly felt heavy in his pocket. The man impatiently held the key out to Fenrir, who took it and stood up and went towards the stairs that will lead him to the floor where the VIP rooms were located.

VIP room one came upon him quickly as he noticed that all of the other rooms had their doors open signifying that they were currently not in use tonight.

Fenrir traveled up to the room, the same number matched the number on the key. He checked twice. Even from here he could hear the loud humming of the music and feel the slight vibration from the speakers that hung in a decorative manner from the raised roof. Sniffing the air, stale from being indoors, the scent of sex, drugs and other things Fenrir didn’t care too much about. He did however smell blood, and that caught his interest.

Slipping the lock into the door and opening it.

The first thing that caught his attention a rather large man sitting back relaxing in one of the modern sofa’s curved nicely to fit the room in an inviting manner. It worked; the couch was more tempting than the hard stools downstairs. The large man had blond hair to about his shoulders, sharp blue eyes and lower canines that stuck out of a closed smirk. The man had the eyes of a man who spent too long on top of the food chain.

Much like Fenrir Greyback himself.

“Close the door behind ya.” The man said, voice rumbling in a relaxed deep voice. Confidence laced throughout both the man’s voice and his body language, alpha position. It raised Fenrir’s hackles instantly. He wasn’t used to someone who pulled the whole alpha behavior properly for quite some time. Even the Dark Lord had it wrong, when it came to animal senses. There was no question the Dark Lord was in control, but he didn’t have the body language of an alpha male. Just a master and a strategist of an organization, and yes there was a difference.
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Concrete Jungle