"Don't growl at me. You can't kill her and you know it." Merlin knew Sirius wanted the bitch to be dead. But that just wasn't good enough. It would never be good enough. She had to live a thousand lives filled with misery before he could be satisfied enough to let her go into oblivion. And even then...well, part of him wondered if it would ever be enough.
He debated turning into his dog form, even though he didn't want the bitch to know that he could do it. He would if he had to...because she couldn't die. She just couldn't. Not now, now that he had seen the real and absolute terror in her beady little eyes.
But then the wolf was sitting on the wounds, and Sirius exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He sat down outside the bars, indian style, and continued to watch the show.
Walburga tried to pull her face away as the spittle and blood dripped onto her face. She tried to squirm, but it was useless. The monster was too big, and she was too weak. She had no wand...and now she had no blood. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, but the imprint remained, and the image of the werewolf freak burned into her panicked brain.