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Old Friend	By : Prosperosdaughter Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3803 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: JK Rowling and her associates own Harry Potter. I make no money from my stories.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimer: The Potterverse is owned by JKR.

Wandsong and Idris Lydiard and his pack are all mine.

Warning: M/M. Don't like, please don't read.

This chapter dovetails with Chapter 87 of 'You Will Not Kiss Me'.

Chapter 10: The Hostage

Alphard was summoned awake by a spell. He knew that by the groggy feel he could not resist. He felt the remnants of healing warmth in his stomach. Had he been injured? He opened his eyes to find himself on a cot in a tent at wand-point. He looked at the face of the wizard who held him and found his eyes locked by the darkest eyes he had ever beheld: dark and seemingly dead in a sharp face with a hawk-like nose. He was unnerved, but hardly had time to try to get his bearings before the wizard spoke.

"Say nothing, do you hear me," hissed the wizard, a thin man, dressed in cloth as black as his hair and eyes. He reminded Alphard of a crow. Alphard nodded, backing away from him, his mind spinning on how he got here and why.

"Are you Alphard Black?" demanded the man. The question shocked Alphard and he nodded slowly. The wizard seemed to be as unnerved by Alphard as he was by the wizard although Alphard had no idea why that should be. He watched the man warily, the stupidity of his leaving the wards on his own hitting him with full force. There was no doubt in his mind that this would be Riddle's man and not a common or garden thief. What the man said next shocked him to his core.

"Under no circumstances tell my companions who you are. The consequences for you will be painful and lethal. Whatever I tell you to do, you must do it, even if you complain about it. Your life depends on me now. You don't know me, but Idris does. He knows me as Seth Moore ..."

"I've heard of you ..." Alphard interrupted, remembering the conversation with Dumbledore. So this was the double agent. Not Seth Moore – no, Snape. That was it - Snape.

"I said, say nothing," Snape hissed and then glanced up quickly and then removed some kind of spell, Alphard felt it, as they heard the men returning. He pointed his wand at Alphard once more.

"Oh. He's awake, is he? Who is he then, this lover-boy of Idris?" an ugly, gutteral voice commented.

Alphard stared at the man who spoke. Was it a man? It was certainly a werewolf; a werewolf of nightmares, all visible skin covered in hair and sharp teeth visible as he leered at him with the eyes of a wolf. Alphard's mouth dried out as he felt bile rise in his throat. He was sure this man must be Greyback.

"I didn't ask and, frankly, we don't need to know." Snape's eyes darted to Alphard briefly, but the tone he used to the others was commanding. "You will all keep your distance from him. He is a hostage, not a toy or a mugger's mark."

It was then that Alphard saw the three werewolves whom Idris had driven out after his Claiming: Jake, Uriah and Jude. None of them met his eyes as he stared at them in disgust, but seemed more concerned with what Snape and Greyback were doing. Snape sat next to the cot and Alphard felt a silencing charm take hold of him. He'd recognise those anywhere – one of his father's favourites before Alphard would be shut in the attic room.

"And I don't need to hear anything from you either, unnatural blood traitor!" snarled Snape, looking Alphard right in the eyes. "Lie down."

Alphard's eyes went wide with fear as he saw the three werewolves leer in expectation. He found himself wondering just how far Snape would go to keep his cover. "Do it!" Snape barked.

Alphard lay on the cot and was bound by Snape's Incarcerous, binding Alphard's wrists in front of him and his ankles together. Alphard breathed deeply, trying to control his fear. He had not been bound since he had left home at seventeen. He felt his heart hammer hard with remembered fear even as he heard Greyback grouse his bonds were not tight enough.

"Yes, I'm sure the Dark Lord would be delighted by the cuts and bruises of binding," sneered Snape. "He's not to be harmed. Why don't you people understand that?"

Alphard listened to the challenge in the growl in Greyback's throat and watched intently as the thin wizard didn't back down. No-one would think it to look at him, even as the anticipation of violence was clearly palpable. The large werewolf was afraid? No. Worried? Yes. Worried by Snape and backed down. In his months with the pack, he never would have expected to see a werewolf like Greyback acquiesce to a smaller man. Watching still, the thin man, Snape, may have been slight in stature, but he clearly carried weight.

"Good. We understand each other. Now. The message has to get to this Idris," Snape said. So, it was to trap Idris! Alphard guts roiled with self-disgust as he listened to Snape making plans to deliver a ransom note by those craven cowards who had attacked him after the Claiming, as he tried to work the bonds Snape had tied him with. Snape hated his companions: it was so obvious as yet they took his orders, resenting him all the time.

His attention to the subtle movements he made trying unbind himself behind Snape's back was suddenly drawn away by what Greyback was now saying.

"There's history," Greyback muttered, "between me and him."

"I know," said Snape. "You held his mate hostage and challenged him to single combat. He thrashed you and so you butchered her …"

Alphard flinched with nausea at the confirmation that this was the werewolf who had raped and murdered Idris's mate and scarred Idris, not just facially, but emotionally too. He watched as Greyback lunged towards Snape, snarling with offence, but a quick and forceful repelling jinx sent him flying unceremoniously backwards. Snape was certainly a fast duellist, combative in actions and words.

"Let's not even pretend you're a match for me, Greyback," Snape sneered and then straightened and looked at them all as Greyback scrabbled to get back on his feet. "The question is: is it to our advantage that you and he have this history? He won't trust you, that's for sure."

Alphard listened to them planning what sounded like an exchange. He prayed Idris wouldn't consider such a thing and he began to twist in his bonds, trying to protest, but the silencing charm held.

"Exchange? I would imagine none," said Snape lightly. "Nevertheless, it is what we'll ask for. We need to get Idris out of the wards, then we can trap him, but he must not be hurt. The Dark Lord has forbidden any harm to come to him. I expect it will come to a battle, so your reinforcements better be up to it."

"Against a bunch of mountain werewolves?" Greyback sneered. "My pack will easily overcome them. And with Dementors too, they ain't got no chance."

Dear sweet Merlin! Alphard thought with horror. They were planning a battle! With himself as the bait and catalyst.

"These beasts are notoriously sentimental and weak about their mates, are they not, Greyback?" asked Snape, snidely. Alphard couldn't help wonder if he was right about the identity of this man. He certainly was an extraordinary actor if it was true he had a werewolf mate.

The wolf-man grimaced, exposing his sharp teeth once more. "It is a weakness of our kind. Others – wolves who want to be strong – take no mate."

"And scorn those that do, no doubt," Snape commented.

"Ties. Bonds," sneered Greyback. "Those connections have those names for a reason. I just take what I need."

Snape nodded, saying, "So we try for a direct swap first. When that fails, as it so assuredly will, some judicious evidence of torture I am sure will bring Idris out, no doubt with his pack."

The wolf-man laughed chestily, and the other scruffy wizard leered at Alphard. Yes, quite the actor. Alphard struggled to sit up. He damn well wasn't going to lie down to be tortured: he was still a Black, after all.

"You said the queer wasn't to be harmed, but now ..." Jake, ever the coward, squealed.

"Oh, old Snape knows how never to leave a mark," Greyback chuckled unpleasantly, his eyes holding a glint of appreciation as he leered at Alphard. "Very controlled in his torture, is Snape."

Alphard stared as Snape arrogantly held up a hand in acknowledgement. "I do what is needed to achieve the results required. I leave torture as a sport to others." Snape tilted his head towards Greyback, in deference. The other wizard snorted. Alphard felt a chill in his soul. Just what kind of people are they?

Snape wrote out a note, and Alphard was sure he had used a charm on it, but he noticed Snape did it so the others would not see. Then Snape turned to Alphard and turned his wand on him. Alphard's eyes widened in fear and he thrashed to get free, but a small cutting curse was sent to Alphard's thumb and then Snape pressed the parchment to his blood.

"Your ... mate ... will recognise your blood, I think," Snape said unkindly, but he healed the cut immediately with a small gesture unnoticed by the others.

What would Idris think to receive his blood in a note? Alphard screwed his eyes shut. Idris would recognise it – he would smell him. Oh dear Merlin, this man meant to infuriate him. Alphard cursed Snape under his breath, but cursed himself more for his helplessness as they all waited.

IL~AB~IL~AB~IL~AB

In the chill of the January morning, Idris was overseeing the count of their overwintering stores with some of the older werewolves, when Angharad came to find him, Stacy beside her, as ever. She drew him aside, with a gentle pull, but Idris saw concern – no – fear in her eyes.

"Stacy an' me have been waiting for Alf for lessons, an' he hasn't come," she whispered frantically. "We've looked all around the camp for him." She shook her head. "Idris, I'm worried. I think he's gone out on his own."

Idris felt his blood run cold. No-one was to leave the camp without an escort; that had been his rule since he knew Riddle had returned, and certainly neither of his mates nor his children.

"Definitely? Ye've checked all over the camp?" he asked, gruffly, trying to cover his almost instant panic that fluttered in his gut.

"Yes," she nodded quickly. "Stacy changed to follow his scent. He lost it at the boundary. He says Alf was on his own."

"No!" gasped Idris, his eyes widened. He rushed to one of the small tents where the Whitby Werewolves camped, and grabbed Botolph from his place round the fire by his robes.

"It's your job to watch him!" snarled Idris.

Botolph panicked in the Alpha's grasp, twisting to try to get free.

"What? What have I done?" he yelped, turning his face from Idris, his eyes huge in fear.

"Alf's left the camp, and it's your job to get what he needs so he doesn't."

"I didn't know! It's still so early. Please! Please! I don't normally go to the inn until later. Please!" Botolph sounded as if he would cry at the accusations of failure as his hands clawed helplessly at the Alpha's iron grip. Angharad grabbed Idris's arm.

"Please, Idris. If Alf went without telling him, what could he do? Please." Her voice was a soothing as she could make it. "Let's set about finding him." She gently pulled on his arm again.

Idris breathed deeply, still staring at Botolph in anger but willing himself to control it. Not now. Now was not the time. A few more deep regulating breaths and then he pushed the man away from him.

"Find my sons and my Betas. Bring them to me," he growled.

Botolph nodded, and ran, his body still shaking as the other Whitby Werewolves looked at Idris's face, and then ran after him.

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

After the other four had been despatched to deliver the note, Snape ordered Jude to keep watch outside then cast a charm Alphard did not recognise and then he felt the silencing charm lift once more.

"We need to be quick. There'll be little time," Snape said urgently. "The Dark Lord wants Idris as his wandmaker ..."

"Hasn't Riddle done enough to us?" Alphard snapped, his stomach flipping with anger and fear that, after all these years, Riddle sought to ruin everything once more.

"There is always room for more cruelty in the Dark Lord, Alphard Black," Snape said quietly, seeming to map Alphard's face in a way Alphard found much too curious. "We are here by the Dark Lord's command and you are seen as Idris's weakness."

"Idris won't give himself up. He didn't before; he won't now," Alphard said proudly, although not fully believing it. No, he was sure – sure that Idris would do nothing to endanger his pack. "And I don't expect him to."

Snape regarded Alphard for what seemed like a long time. It confused Alphard that the man seemed to be analysing him all the time.

"I don't know why I'm surprised this tactic is being tried again," Snape eventually continued. "He sees no other way to get what he wants and, believe me, he wants your mate as his wandmaker."

"Do you know our story? How Idris was Turned? How many years ago that was?"

"I do," confirmed Snape. "Before, it was to arm the werewolves loyal to him. Now, the Dark Lord needs a wandmaker because his wand fails him. It is now a very personal – ah – acquisition," said Snape, speaking quickly as he checked on Jude's whereabouts. "It is, of course, vital that he does not acquire Idris. I must do all I can to look as if I wish to achieve it, whilst ensuring it fails."

"Why do you not name him?" Alphard whispered harshly, disconcerted by the reverence with which Snape spoke Riddle's adopted alias, as Snape fiddled with the ties around Alphard's wrists.

The wizard inhaled sharply as if stung and his eyes flicked to what appeared to be part of a dark tattoo just visible from his sleeve cuff. "He would know. He has a Taboo Curse in this brand I bear to give him knowledge of traitors."

Alphard heard the fear in Snape's voice for the first time, and was intrigued. A blood brand! It was rare dark magic and he leant forward to look but Snape snatched his arm away.

"No time. Now, listen. I have loosened your bonds. Your wand is in my left cloak pocket. I'm working blind to an extent but I hope I have got a message to Idris. They should be surrounding our position. At the first sign of attack, push me and take your wand. Then you must Disapparate. Do nothing else. Disapparate and get back behind the wards of the camp."

"What will you do then?" asked Alphard, as he tested the flexibility of his bonds, a small tremble now in his hands from the excitement that Snape would assist him in an escape.

"You needn't concern yourself with that. Just get yourself back to the camp so Idris isn't handicapped."

"What do you mean: handicapped?" Alphard asked harshly, offended to be seen as a handicap to the man he loved so very dearly.

"From fighting, of course. If you're held hostage, it will handicap him. If you're with him, he can lead properly. Idris and his pack need to fight and thrash Greyback once and for all, do you see?"

"Yes," Alphard nodded. He couldn't deny the truth of it. Then he heard the men returning and lay back on the cot. "Good luck," he wished Snape, understanding that may not have another chance to talk again to this strange, expressionless man who now sat by the cot, protecting him, he knew.

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

Geraint and Gareth, Idris's oldest sons by Megan, reached him first, quickly followed by Bronwen's sons, Ieuan, Iolo and Medwyn. Within minutes, Idris's three most trusted Betas had joined him too.

Steadying his nerves, and keeping Angharad to his side, he arranged search parties to fan out from certain points of the perimeter. As he planned with them, Angharad squeezed his arm.

"You don't know for sure something bad has happened ..."

Idris turned to her, his dark eyes glittered with fear.

"I cannot describe it, dear one. But I feel it ..."

Just then, a shout went up from Medwyn.

"It's Remus Lupin!"

Idris and Angharad spun to see Lupin coming through the tents towards them, clearly badly injured but brushing aside attempts to assist him until he stood before Idris.

"I've come to warn you," Lupin gasped breathlessly, holding his arm around his ribs. "Voldemort has sent Greyback to Snowdon. He's coming for you ... through your mate."

"Dear God," Idris rasped, cold terror clutching his heart as his irrational fear became real and he pulled Angharad into a fierce embrace.

/

At the height of the last wizards' war, Fenrir Greyback had captured Bronwen as she and others had brought in the crop of apples. Greyback's pack of werewolves had beaten the ten others she had been with and sent them back, battered and bloody, to their own Alpha with the message: "Submit to me."

Greyback. Fenrir, the young wolf who had been Vargulf's lieutenant, keeping watch over Idris as he had pretended to work on the wands for Riddle. The news had come with the running wolves ten years before that war that Greyback had fought Vargulf to the death to be leader of his pack, and like the conquered werewolf, had offered his services to Riddle.

Bronwen, beautiful and dark – he had waited fifteen years to take another mate after Megan died, he had felt her death so dreadfully. The pack demanded he be mated, to lead by example. This woman was strong and loving and they had formed a deep bond.

Then Greyback came. Back to do Riddle's dirty work.

Idris had sent word back. He would fight him in the proper wolf manner. No wands. Hand to hand combat. If Greyback lost, he would release Bronwen unharmed. If Greyback conquered Idris, he would submit. That was the wolves' way; there was no reason to believe Greyback would renege. Agreement came back from his messenger.

In the large clearing at the base of the mountain, they met. Each Alpha's pack was ranged behind their champion, their wands surrendered symbolically to their most trusted Beta. The two men, giants of their type circled each other, growling as their wolfish nature overcame them.

Within a heartbeat of each other, they charged at each other, like raging bulls, large hands grasping trying to pull the other man off balance to land a blow. Each man stomped the ground for purchase as they grappled with each other, their strong fingers gouging each other's skin until Idris managed to hook his leg behind Greyback's and drop him onto the ground, dropping to his own knees to pull back his fist to land the first real blow.

Greyback managed to pull up his leg and boot Idris in the face, splitting his lips, and sending him flying backwards. In the time that Greyback had scrambled to his feet, Idris had righted himself and they flew at his each other once more, but this time, Idris pounded the side of Greyback's head in an almighty punch that clearly stunned him as his legs seemed to fail him.

It was time to capitalise: hefty punch after hefty punch followed, up and under Greyback's ribs, each punch expelled air and blood from Greyback as his body jarred with the force and swayed with semi-consciousness. With the tenth blow, something seemed to galvanise Greyback and he suddenly lashed out, grasping Idris's face with a clawed hand and raked his fingers into the soft skin of his face as hard as he could.

Idris uttered a strangled cry at the searing pain and head-butted Greyback, exploding his nose as the blood sprayed across his face and with one final enormous effort, Idris landed a powerful punch to Greyback's cheekbone with a sickening crack, and then powered a double fist onto Greyback's back, pummelling him to the floor.

"D'ye submit? Do ye?" Idris growled between ragged breaths.

"Yes," Greyback mumbled, the sound only just recognisable through his shattered facial mask.

"For your pack to hear ..."

Greyback managed to raise his hand in a recognised gesture of submission and issue a strangulated, "Submit!"

An angry, triumphant shout went up from the Snowdon werewolves as Idris stumbled back from his conquest. Wiping the back of his hand against the bloody gouges across his face, he watched, his hands planted on his knees, his breath hitching hugely as Greyback dragged himself away and his Beta dragged him up and they Disapparated. Greyback's pack followed and Idris turned unsteadily to where he knew Bronwen had been kept.

As he turned, Gareth and Geraint came running towards him from the outbuilding.

"No Da! Don't go there!" cried Geraint, grabbing his father's upper arms. "Dear God, Da, don't!" Gareth tried to restrain him, but Idris, still pumped full of adrenaline of the fight and to deal with the pain, shrugged the fully grown twins from him as if they were children again.

"What? Where is she?" he grunted as he ran unsteadily and heavily to the run-down barn and staggered through the doors.

The straw had soaked up so much blood, but he still saw how much blood she had lost, from her throat and between her legs. The cry that ripped from his throat as he threw himself next to her was anguish and guilt and horror combined that her last hours on this earth had been this. He grasped her bloodless, lifeless form to himself and howled as if he was the wolf, the bay of tortured grief of life viciously and untimely ripped away.

/

The scars across his face now seemed to throb with remembered pain as he held Angharad close, the memory returned as bright and sharp as if it happened yesterday. He held Angharad to arm's length to look at her, as if imprinting her features.

"Not this time!" he growled. "This time, I'll kill him – and anyone who stands with him."

AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL~AB~IL

The reconnaissance teams set out with Idris's adult sons and Betas in the lead with instructions to scout around the territory, noting any defences, places of ambush and best vantage points.

Although injured, Lupin insisted on teaching each of the teams a revealing charm before they left for the existence of repelling wards. Even if they could not get through, they would at least know the co-ordinates of any of Greyback's pack who might be hiding and could report back.

As soon as they had gone, Angharad rushed to Lupin's side and Idris took the other side and they took him to Alphard's tent.

"Tell me everything!" Idris growled, ignoring the look of irritation Angharad gave him as she healed the cuts and bruises to Lupin's face.

"It's all right, Angharad," said Lupin, but then hissed in pain has she felt his ribs. She managed to remove his cloak and robe without too much trouble, but spelled away his shirt and grimaced at the bruises beginning to blossom around his ribs and stomach, noting also the extensive scarring to his body, beyond any scarring she had seen before, even as a werewolf herself. Her brow furrowed. Under any other circumstances, she would ask, but now was not the time.

"Is it safe to speak here? Will we be overheard?" Lupin asked, hitching occasionally as Angharad worked on healing his ribs with soft incantations.

"Aye," Idris said, "strong charms on this tent." His jaw worked with impatience as he waited to hear. "Get on with it, boy!"

"You know my mate, Seth Moore?"

Idris nodded. Lupin scraped his fingers through his hair, clearly agitated to impart this information.

"He is not a tutor in Barmouth, he is ..."

"Severus Snape, Dumbledore's spy in the service of Riddle," Idris finished impatiently.

"How do you know?" Lupin yelped, his face a mask of sheer terror, jumping away from Angharad, although clearly still in pain. "Who told you?"

"Dumbledore told us, months ago," Idris said. "Is this who has given ye this information?"

"Dumbledore ... why the hell would Dumbledore do that? Dear God! What was he thinking?" Lupin cried, looking scared witless. "Who knows? Who else here knows?"

Idris saw in that instant that Lupin was as terrified for his mate as Idris was for his own and strode forward and grabbed Lupin's shoulders hard.

"He made us swear to tell no-one. The secret is safe. Calm down! Tell me what we need to know."

Lupin blinked, clearly thinking furiously, and then nodded and allowed himself to be led back to a stool by Angharad to finish working on his ribs.

"Don't call him his name. I beg you. He'll be killed if Voldemort finds out."

Idris could do nothing other than empathise with Lupin, clearly living in terror all the time.

"Please," Idris said as gently as he was able, pushing down his own fear and anger. "Tell me what Seth Moore told ye."

Lupin seemed to flag with relief on the stool when he heard the alias.

"He called me a couple of hours ago to warn you. I tried to leave the werewolves I was with." Lupin closed his eyes and Idris saw how much the effort of talking was still costing him. "They stopped me." He indicated his injuries. "I tried to get here sooner. I'm sorry."

Idris indicated for him to carry on. Lupin told him that Snape was to accompany Greyback to ensure Greyback did not hurt Idris's mate this time.

"Se ... Seth says you must not fight Greyback one-to-one again. Greyback has no idea how many werewolves are in your pack. If the packs were to fight, Greyback would be so badly defeated that ..."

"Da! Da!" Iolo shouted from the perimeter and Idris's heart leapt and, Lupin forgotten, he ran from the tent to the perimeter and then just outside where Iolo and two others held a scruffy wizard and ... no, it couldn't be ... Uriah!

Idris started to snarl at the werewolf he had expelled, but Iolo held him back.

"It's a note, Da."

He thrust the oddly folded parchment at Idris, who stared at it as if it would explode as a coppery tang hit his nose. He recognised Alphard's smell in the blood that was in this note. He unfolded it.

Idris, alpha of the Snowdon pack.

We have the wizard, Alf. If you want him to live, you will give yourself up to me at noon today.

The Dark Lord commands it.

With every word, Idris felt his fear grind deeper into his soul, colder and colder still, his eyes drawn back to the blood stain on the parchment. Riddle would take Alphard away from him once more.

Idris looked up at Uriah, his eyes full of malice.

"I should kill ye, ye little ..."

The scruffy wizard swaggered, although his wand was held by Iolo. "I don't think so, not as we've got your mate holed up with one of the Dark Lord's finest torturers."

Idris's eyes widened as they snapped to the wizard. Then, in a flash, Idris grabbed him and threw him through the enchantments.

"You! Scavenger!" Idris spat at Uriah. "Get back to yer torturer! Tell him our messenger will come."

Uriah scarpered towards the trees, and Idris saw two others trying to conceal themselves there. His jaw tightened and his mouth turned downwards in anger and disgust as he fleetingly saw the form of Greyback disappear from view.

He turned and bore down on the scruffy wizard who was trying to scrabble away from the advancing Alpha, but Idris lunged and pulled him up by the scruff of his neck and dragged him, kicking and jabbering threats to the tent where Lupin followed.

"Give me the parchment," asked Lupin firmly.

Idris released it into Lupin's grasp as he bound the scruffy wizard harshly to a chair, knowing the bindings were cutting into the wizard's skin.

"Torturer, is it? Why don't ye just tell me about this torturer then?" he snarled.

"Idris. Please. I have to talk to you. Privately," Lupin whispered, grabbing Idris's wand arm.

Idris shoved Lupin away.

"Well?" Idris growled. "Tell me."

The wizard jutted his jaw out in defiance, doing his best to leer at Idris, even though Idris could smell his abject fear.

"Severus Snape. Right skilled he is. Known for it. And hates your kind with a passion," the wizard sneered.

"STUPEFY!" cried Lupin, and the wizard slumped in his bonds. "For Merlin's sake, listen to me, Idris!"

Idris rounded on Lupin, his wand now pointed towards him.

"'Right skilled' he called 'im!" Idris shouted. "A torturer! What are ye playin' at, Remus Lupin?"

"Will you listen to me?" Lupin yelled, one hand outstretched in a pacific gesture and the other holding out the parchment. "There are notes here. Directions!"

Idris growled deep in his throat and made to lunge, but, suddenly, Angharad interposed herself between them, one hand pushing into each man's chest. Her mate looked her at in shock.

"Ye must listen, Idris. At least hear him out," she said, her voice sounding strained and clearly near to tears.

"Not in front of him," Lupin pleaded, gesturing at the Stupefied wizard. "Move him please."

Idris glared at Lupin and the nodded, and called two of his sons in to remove the wizard, still bound to the chair.

Slowly, Lupin lowered his hands shakily and then smoothed out the parchment on Alphard's desk.

"Watch now," he said, raising his wand. He muttered an incantation and more of the jagged writing appeared, giving co-ordinates for where they were hiding, how many were there and how many expected.

"He will not harm your mate. I promise you."

"He has already!" Idris exclaimed, picking up the parchment and shaking it in Lupin's face. "That's Alf's blood. I can smell it!"

Lupin's already pale face drained as he looked at it again. He couldn't deny it was blood, or that Idris would know the scent of his mate's blood. Lupin exhaled heavily, and Angharad moved between them once more.

"It's a small amount, just a scratch I'm sure ..."

"IT REEKS OF FEAR!" Idris roared, grabbing Lupin's collar, yanking him towards himself until they were nose to nose, Idris's dark eyes glittering with fear.

Lupin did not retaliate, and Idris saw his eyes shining. He could smell Lupin was not scared of him. No, he was drowning Idris in protective scents, wanting to protect his own mate, begging him to understand they were in the same boat.

"Ach!" Idris hissed and pushed Lupin away from him. Lupin steadied himself, breathing deeply.

"Seth is a consummate spy," said Lupin softly. "Greyback will be convinced that he is on their side. They will have perfect confidence in him ..."

"As ye do," Idris interrupted, his expression shrewd.

"I know the truth of my mate, Idris. Do not think for one moment I do not," Lupin said, for the first time riled and challenging. "Hear me out."

Angharad squeezed his arm again and Idris nodded.

"I'm sure Alf – is it?" They both nodded. "I'm sure Alf is scared, but I promise you, Seth will only do enough to appear to hurt him. He is accomplished at this form of dissembling. He rescued me from Voldemort's head quarters from under Voldemort's nose, for Merlin's sake, by lies and Glamours. I beg you to trust us. He has a plan for Alf to escape to you."

Idris listened to the earnest werewolf. He knew Lupin was not lying, but this mate of his, to be spoken of so – it worried him. That blood on the parchment – it assailed his nose – smelling the fear of his beautiful Alf was almost more than he could bear. But then, Lupin had revealed the extra writing, clearly concealed from the messengers. And there was no doubting the reality of injuries that Lupin himself had borne to get himself here to warn them.

"All right then," he said gruffly.

He watched as Lupin relaxed visibly and then Lupin outlined how Snape had suggested a full-on battle. Greyback did not know how large the Snowdon pack had grown. The smaller pack of Greyback could easily be defeated and a resounding defeat would ensure Greyback would not return to fight an unknown entity. Failure to acquire Idris would be punished severely by Riddle and, on a calculated guess, Riddle would look elsewhere. Idris knew it was true. There had to be such a terrible defeat that their eyes would not look to Snowdon again. He grunted in agreement.

"But I want to make a change to the plan," Lupin said softly. Idris's eyebrows rose.

"It isn't only Greyback who will be punished by Voldemort when Alf escapes."

"So will Seth Moore?" Angharad supplied softly, nodding her understanding, her soft brown eyes watching Lupin with pity.

"I want to arrange it so no blame falls on him." Lupin swallowed audibly. "You have no idea what Voldemort does to him – how he is tortured ... I can't let it happen ... I just can't ..."

Angharad grasped his elbow and led him back to the stool on which she had treated him.

"Do you have an alternative plan?" asked Idris.

"Invite them to parley somewhere enclosed. Seth will never agree to that because he wants Alf to escape. He will choose the clearing, as in his original plan. Ambush them, so Alf can escape and we take Seth prisoner at the same time. Greyback will never expect it. He assumes you will be as honourable as you were ... before." Lupin's eyes were apologetic when he said this. "Then challenge them to battle. Greyback won't dare refuse if he thinks he can win Seth back. If he loses the battle and returns without either you or Seth, Voldemort will kill him. Seth ... well, let's say, he is useful to him. Voldemort would never allow him to be held by werewolves."

"But I have no intention of losing in battle," Idris rumbled.

"Oh no! You must win. But Seth will escape during the tumult, suitably scathed, and he shall be the one to inform Voldemort of the defeat."

"And ensure Greyback's punishment," sneered Idris.

"Yes," Lupin replied simply.

Idris regarded Lupin once more, seemingly so mild-mannered but a fine wizard who had trained the pack to produce Patronuses. He saw the hardness in the eyes in the prematurely lined face. And then he remembered just who Greyback was to Remus Lupin: the man who had Turned a five year old child.

"If I don't kill him, o' course," said Idris, with a half smile.

"If you don't kill him," agreed Lupin, smiling tightly in return.

"Very well."

Idris left the tent and went to the main clearing. The reconnaissance parties had returned and waited to report.

"TO ME!" he roared. "NOW! ALL OF YE! TO ME!"

It was only a matter of minutes before the enlarged pack mustered before their Alpha and he set out Remus Lupin's plan.

AB~IL~ AB~IL~AB~IL~ AB~IL

Over the next hour, and after he had taken the reports of the scouting groups, Idris picked those werewolves most skilled in fighting to be part of Lupin's small ambush groups and instructed them where they were to place themselves and then he instructed Ieuan on creating the diversion that would start the ambush. He drilled the groups several times to act only on the commands given.

"Need someone to go with a message to get 'em out in the open," Idris announced.

Botolph stepped forward immediately to Idris's surprise.

"Me. It should be me," he said, sticking out his chin stubbornly. When Idris raised his eyebrows questioningly, the werewolf said, "Please, it was my fault. It should be me."

Idris felt no small amount of shame. Of course, it hadn't been Botolph's fault, but he had shamed the man into guilt through his own terror.

"Ye don't have to ..."

"I want to. I'm part of this pack too." Botolph said stubbornly.

Idris looked at him appraisingly and resolved. "That ye are, Botolph. Our messenger. Go an' see Remus Lupin for the message and what to do."

Within five minutes, Botolph returned, accompanied by Lupin and Angharad, and they were ready to move out.

Lupin made to join them, but Idris held him back.

"It's best ye stay behind. Look to that wizard." He gestured to the wizard, still unconscious and bound.

"I want to make sure Seth ..." Lupin began to demand.

"And that's the point, isn't it?" Idris said, as kindly as he could manage. "Ye want a realistic diversion? It's best ye stay behind. Anyway, Angharad says ye're not fit to fight yet."

Lupin moved forward to object, but Idris blocked him, and shook his head slowly.

Angharad moved forward and held onto Lupin's arms.

"Come, Remus Lupin. Seth Moore will be with ye soon. Let Idris do what he needs."

Idris watched as she led him away, knowing how it must be hurting him to let go, even though Lupin knew he had to if Idris to carry the day.

They moved out, stealthily moving through the forests they knew like the backs on their hands, fanning out to take their assigned positions around the clearing and where the note said they had set up their encampment. Once they were all in their position, they signalled to Idris their readiness. Then they saw werewolves Apparating into the clearing. Idris counted them off. Lupin was right. The Snowdon pack easily outnumbered them.

Then, a terrible chill descended, and settled on everyone like a mantle of desperation and Idris's fear increased and his mind rang with memories of his father calling a filthy half-breed beast as he ran him off the land below. He rammed his head into his hands in despair, but then felt it ease gradually. Lupin had warned of these soul demons, these Dementors. They had had a taste of it now. Best to be prepared. He would know that coldness if it came again. He nodded to Botolph, who set off, seemingly alone, but with thirty wands covering his progress.

AB~IL~ AB~IL~AB~IL~ AB~IL

Alphard waited nervously. Snape was like a statue sitting in the chair in front of him, only moving once to give him a drink of water. After what seemed to be an interminable length of time, he heard cracks of Apparition and knew this must be Greyback's pack. He couldn't help the wave of nausea he felt.

Then that was forgotten when he suddenly felt the chill in his bones, sliding into his soul, his fear forgotten as desolation crawled over him, and his terrible memories of his father's cruelty, being dragged to the attic room at only three years of age, his desperate cries for Idris outside that farm all surfaced in his mind, unbidden and unwanted.

"Get them back," Snape snarled at Greyback. They groused at each other, as Alphard tried to fight away the feeling of despair that threatened to overwhelm him that he would lose Idris again, be alone again ...

Grumbling, Greyback left the tent and shouted orders and gradually the dread chill lifted and Alphard felt the constriction in his chest lifting as the soul demons must have moved away.

Then there were shouts. Someone had come.

Snape leapt up, his wand pointing at Alphard as his finger pressed to his lips for silence at Alphard's questioning look. Greyback came bustling through the tent, with Botolph held roughly by one arm with the flag of truce. Alphard started forward so Botolph could see he was unharmed.

"Stay put!" Snape barked at him then he turned back to Botolph. "Who are you?"

"I'm Idris's messenger, Botolph." Alphard heard the tremor in his voice. Poor man! He was terrified. Why send him? "He wants to talk terms with you."

Greyback sniggered. "Terms, is it? Terms for the return of lover-boy."

"That's quite enough," Snape snapped. "Where and when."

"In the inn down there. Now."

"I can't leave the hostage," Snape stated. "The Dark Lord's order."

He heard Greyback grunt.

"You think I can't be trusted."

"I know you can't, werewolf. You have form," Snape said, his own lip curling. "I think the inn is dangerous. The clearing just outside the wards will do. Out in the open so everyone can see, and bring the hostage so I can keep an eye on him and Idris will see he's unharmed. Go back to your Alpha. Tell him that."

Botolph nodded quickly and almost ran from the tent. Alphard heard the cruel laughter of the werewolves outside and hoped desperately Botolph would get away safely.

"Come!" Snape grasped Alphard's upper arm and dragged him to his feet. "Keep quiet and do as you're told and you may yet make it back to your mate."

Alphard stared hard at Snape, still sure he meant to help Alphard escape, but confused at his ease of dissembling. Snape pretended to tighten the bonds on Alphard's wrists, but actually loosened them, and then unbound his ankles. Yes, he was sure now. Now was the time, as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"You go ahead of me, Greyback. Make sure your pack watches our backs."

Greyback grunted in acknowledgement and Alphard was pushed ahead by the tip of Snape's wand, leaving the tent for the first time and blinking fast in the low winter sunlight. Dozens of werewolves sat and stood around small fires and Alphard felt Snape tense behind him. He was as scared as Alphard, he was sure.

They walked slowly, almost casually, forward through the protective enchantments and on to the centre of the clearing where Idris stood with Botolph, flanked by Gareth and Geraint, their wands at the ready.

Alphard's heart leapt again to see Idris, although he had never seen his brow so furrowed, anger radiating from him. Idris looked right at him and Alphard nodded imperceptibly, hoping Idris saw he was fine. He saw Idris's eyes slide to Greyback and his expression become harder still.

The tension in the air was palpable. Then a hex flew past his ear and knocked Snape down.

This was it!

Hearing Greyback shout to his pack, Alphard leapt forward and grabbed Snape's cloak and fished out his wand and as soon as he had it, he twisted and Disapparated.

Idris saw Alphard go amongst the flying curses, and the constriction on his heart eased and he plunged forward towards the stricken figure in black. Heaven knew, that figure bore no resemblance to Seth Moore but Lupin had told him he was dark haired and slim but, if in doubt, to check for a branding tattoo on his left forearm.

As he rushed forward, so all the bands of strategically placed werewolves came out of hiding and engaged Greyback and his werewolves in fierce duelling. This was by no means all the pack. Now was not the time to give the game away, but these were Idris's very best, most aggressive fighters and they soon commanded the attention of Greyback's werewolves as all fought savagely, the air crackling with magic.

Idris got to Snape just as he struggled to his feet, and he lashed out, punching him in the throat to incapacitate him. Snape fell heavily on all fours, his wand dropping by his side. Idris recognised the wand at once and grabbed it, shoving it into his own belt. This was his mark and he'd better make the capture believable. It was easy enough. All he had to do was remember the reek of fear in that blood and he kicked Snape high and hard so he fell on his back, winded.

Medwyn rushed forward and pulled up the sleeve. "He's got the evil brand!"

Idris watched as Snape searched for his wand with his outstretched hand, even as he struggled to breathe. Idris dropped onto his knees over Snape's thin body, catching his scent now, knowing it was Seth Moore for sure. He grabbed the black hair and pointed his wand at Snape's heart, getting a primeval thrill from the terror that suddenly emanated from the wizard.

He remembered the blood and his face became terrible.

"And just how valuable will ye be to Tom Riddle, I wonder ..." he growled through his gritted teeth," ... Severus Snape."

Idris bound Snape's wrists and then pulled Snape roughly to his feet, as his sons covered him with their wands.

"STAND DOWN!" Idris bellowed over the wand-fire. "STAND DOWN AND HEAR ME!"

"STOP!" barked Greyback, his hand raised in command, as he watched Idris through narrowed eyes, taking in the sight of Snape bound and breathing hard, in pain. "STOP, I SAID, YOU SCUM!"

Slowly, the various duellists ceased throwing curses and, wands still trained on their opponents, they moved away, each drawing their own battle lines.

"Now who has the hostage, Greyback?" bellowed Idris, his wand at Snape's throat. "What will yer precious Dark Lord think of this?"

Greyback snarled and Idris curled his lip. He could see Greyback's bluff now.

"Ye want him, Greyback? Yer pack against mine. Here. Tomorrow at noon."

Thanks Danniperson for your review, and giving it a go! Hope you continue to enjoy it.

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