The instant Fenrir Greyback saw the image in the mirror, rain fell on him without the slightest warning.
It was the first time he had ever experienced such unnatural rain. It was colder than any rain he had known before, seeming to hover somewhere between ice crystals and mucus, carrying a chill that seeped deep into his bones.
In the brief moment he stood dazed, the rain had already soaked into his fur. The cold stabbed into his skin like countless red-hot needles all at once, and he shuddered instinctively.
The rain did not merely drive cold into his body. It also brought something he could not describe.
First came the sounds.
All kinds of voices appeared out of thin air—not beside his ears, but directly inside his mind, ringing from the depths of his soul.
He blocked his ears with his claws, even wanted to pierce his own eardrums, but it had no effect at all. Those voices grew clearer, madder, noisier.
[Even a person pure of heart and devout in faith, when the wolfsbane takes hold, will turn into a wolf beneath the bright full moon...]
[Mom... it hurts... I want to bite you... just one bite... okay...]
[No... don't look at the moon... tie me tighter... please, tie me tighter...]
Along with the voices, countless images began to surge up as well: bizarre fragments in black-and-white and color, pages covered in writing, and his own memories...
Everything happened at the same time. Everything twisted and flickered at the same time.
Agony erupted deep inside his skull, and Fenrir Greyback clutched his head. His sharp claws dug deep into his scalp, blood running down through his fur.
That did not work at all. His head only hurt more. But the pain did not come from his claws piercing