Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 15
- 16
- 17
The Potterverse is owned by JKR.

Wandsong and Idris Lydiard and his pack are all mine.

Chapter 16: Re-acquaintance

Idris stormed to the store of balms and potions Alphard and Angharad had created from Alphard's and Snape's collaboration.

"Destroy it all!" he snarled, raising his wand. "He's Riddle's man. He's probably poisoned us already!"

"Stop!" cried Angharad, as Alphard threw himself in front of Idris as he made ready to blast their supplies.

Idris's dark eyes blazed at this disobedience from his mates. He wasn't the type of werewolf who was violent or oppressive but that which was Alpha in his blood boiled at this obstruction and he growled low in his throat at both. Angharad flinched, but Alphard did not, although he did not draw his own wand.

"I don't believe it," said Angharad, softly. "I just don't. I know Seth Moore."

"We thought we did. He's a spy. A liar by profession!"

"And we're supposed to be liars by nature!" bit back Angharad. "We know him!"

"Idris," Alphard said, his hand outstretched in appeal. "Remember Dumbledore's last meeting with us?" Alphard raised his eyebrows questioningly. "That his death would not be as it seemed ... I think he knew. He wanted us to know. He said he was pleased Remus and Seth had found allies in us and that there would be hard times for them. Don't you remember?" Alphard pleaded.

"That's a leap! A leap that could see us all killed by slow-acting poison," spat Idris.

"We could ask Remus Lupin," suggested Angharad.

"A murderer's mate!" Idris shouted, and moved forward, raising his arm to push Alphard out of the way, but Alphard pushed back.

"I won't let you destroy all this work, Idris!"

"It could be killing us!" Idris roared.

"I'm a Healer! I know what to look for in poisons ..."

"And me!" exclaimed Angharad. "I see such differences in our pack with these medicaments. Look at our old ones – how much less they suffer – how much more they can do! Don't let fear cloud your sharp eyes and senses. You can smell they're healthier, just as I can."

Idris's breathing began to calm as his dark eyes darted from mate to mate – the two he loved so well. They would not deceive him. But they could be deceived.

"No," said Idris, with finality. "I can't take that chance." And with that pronouncement, he pulled Alphard out of the way and cast a wide charm, but he did not destroy Alphard and Angharad's months of work, but locked it so none could use it. "Not until I have proof. Riddle's a deceiver. He'll stop at nothing. I must have proof that Seth Moore is Light."

Idris stormed from the tent, leaving Alphard and Angharad gaping after him, knowing that, under the roundhouse's ancient enchantments, layered over centuries by the pack's Alphas, the Alpha's charms would hold and could not be broken.

Alphard spent hours thinking as he re-read all of Snape's letters and notes. He recalled how there had been a hiatus in their correspondence and that Lupin had stopped adding his personal notes to Snape's letters. That had to mean something too. He retrieved the ornate phial that Dumbledore had entrusted to him and turned it between his fingers. Dumbledore had said there would be a sign at the time when this was needed so, clearly, that was not this time.

But these balms and potions spoke volumes to Alphard about the intent of Snape. They had trusted him because he was mated to wolfkind and they had a common cause. Snape had helped to rescue Alphard – at great physical cost to himself. Could that really have been a triple bluff? Alphard found that hard to believe.

He wondered whether to chance a message. But to where? Snape clearly wasn't at Hogwarts. The newspaper said he was missing, and Alphard didn't know if he had any other address. A Patronus perhaps? Bad idea – who knew who he might be with.

Alphard's mouth dropped open and he slammed the heel of his hand against his desk at the force of the revelation. How could he have been so stupid to forget? He ran from his tent in search of Idris and found him drilling a large group of werewolves in defensive spells and manoeuvres like a man possessed. Alphard stood to one side and waited patiently, knowing Idris desperately needed to do something about the threat that loomed so heavily over them.

For a while, Idris seemed to ignore him. Alphard didn't mind: he knew Idris had to protect his pack – his blood and his curse compelled him to do it. The compulsion was irresistible.

After half an hour standing to one side, noting how Idris occasionally glanced to where Alphard stood patiently, Idris said gruffly, "Alf, come and show how you do the wand movement for Impedimentia."

Alphard, of course, had had duelling lessons when he was young: all Black children did. His wand movements had finesse, and all the more power and pinpoint accuracy for it. Just small deviations from standard practice, but it was enough to make a difference. Alphard didn't smile at Idris's move to include him. He kept his expression sombre as he took his place beside Idris and began to instruct the group.

They worked hard for hours, drilling until the chosen spells were learnt by rote and the movement worked into muscle memory. Idris dismissed the werewolves and grasped Alphard's shoulder and steered him back to the tent. Alphard didn't object. The sooner he could get Idris on his own, the sooner he could tell Idris he had the proof he needed.

"Alf," Idris said as they gained the privacy of Alphard's tent, "ye have to understand ... I don't say this to spite you. If ye're wrong ..."

"Seth's Patronus!" Alphard interrupted, his face breaking into a grin.

"What of it?"

"Well, for a start – he has one!" Alphard exclaimed. Idris frowned in confusion. "You know what kind of wizards I came from, Idris! I know that Dark wizards don't ... can't conjure a Patronus – partly because they have no need – Dementors and they are of the same ilk, you see," Alphard explained with distaste. "But also, immersion in the Dark Arts prevents it - tarnishes the memories needed for the Conjuration. Seth has a Patronus – a woodland creature - he cast his with us!

"He and Remus Lupin taught the pack to fend off the Dementors," added Idris quietly, mulling this over. Alphard nodded enthusiastically.

"And his wand? You heard his wand?"

"It has been a Dark wand in its time. It has the taint. But old taint," murmured Idris, then he turned to Alphard. "He bonded his wand to always serve his mate."

Alphard couldn't hide his surprise that Snape had taken such a drastic step but, given what he knew of Snape's duality as a spy, perhaps that had been necessary as a layer of protection for Lupin – and surely demonstrated his love of his mate. He told Idris so.

"I don't doubt his loyalty to his mate, Alf. It's his loyalty to Riddle I fear!"

"When he helped us in January, he was not immersed in Dark Arts. I don't believe he was a follower of Riddle then. And I don't believe a follower of Riddle would have warned us to prepare for attack or worked as hard on easing the transformations of werewolves." Alphard reached out and smoothed his thumbs over the scars on Idris's face. "Dumbledore trusted him, and he has helped me to help the pack. Please Idris. Trust him."

Idris held Alphard's hands with his own and brought him towards himself, kissing him fiercely, possessively and protectively, and yet proudly, because under the possessive wolf was the wizard who had always admired the intelligence and talent of Alphard Black and trusted his intuition, and who loved him with something beyond passion, even as his fingers sought out the buttons of Alphard's robes to demonstrate just how much.

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

Idris conceded that Alphard and Angharad could use the balms and potions, but Alphard's next request, as he and Idris lay side by side, met with stunned amazement.

"You want to go to his funeral? At Hogwarts? You could be recognised! Then what?"

"Had Dumbledore not written, I would not be here with you. I should pay our respects – for both of us."

Idris glared, his dark eyes baleful, as if willing Alphard to give up his request, even though he knew Alphard was as stubborn as he.

"Our respect – it's not much to ask," said Alphard, quietly, placing a gentle kiss on his mate's mouth. "For giving you back to me."

"Very well. But ye take a bodyguard."

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

In the end, the remaining members of the band, Conway, Jethro, Freddie and Zebedee were assigned, being the most recently acquainted with the Wizarding world. Alphard applied a Glamour to his instantly recognisable Black features: he couldn't know who would be there, but it was possible there would be attendees of the same age. Conway was Irish and had been educated at Galway Bay Academy of Magic before he was bitten, the others had been home educated. Alphard was satisfied that his bodyguard would not be recognised as werewolves unless, of course, there were fans of the Whitby Werewolves in attendance.

Alphard's guard were excited about visiting Hogwarts. They'd heard of the famous wizarding school all of their lives. Conway was almost dancing with anticipation, despite the sombre occasion, as they joined the crowds arriving on the day of the funeral. Aurors were in abundance at the great entrance gates, but their inspection of attendees' wands was cursory. Alphard suspected they were looking for certain particular wands. As they inspected his wand and those of his companions, he looked up at the two columns topped with statues of winged boars. He'd almost forgotten how dear, and yet how dread, the place became to him – the scene of his love, and the loss of his love. How easily all the feelings came back after all these years.

Alphard passed through, and he was assailed with myriad memories of his school years so many, many years ago. He and the others walked with along the long, winding entrance path. He could have taken one of the many carriages pulled by Thestrals – by Thestrals? He hadn't noticed that when he was a school. They could only be seen by those who had seen death. He had been lucky enough not to have seen death – at that time, at least. Although he had known loss – grievous loss.

He walked slowly, trying to take in as much as he could – how much had changed - and low little. The disparate crowd did not go to the castle itself, but were guided out to the Black Lake. Alphard could almost picture Idris running into the Lake all those decades ago. He wished Idris were with him, but knew his place was with the pack.

Seats were set out in rows with an aisle down the centre and they were filling up. Alphard and the Whitby Werewolves sat to the far side and Alphard looked around himself. Most there were younger than he, but recognised some faces but none would recognise him.

Over by the Lake itself, all of the Hogwarts ghosts, almost invisible in the bright sunshine, stood. He remembered them all and then he saw two who had not been dead when he had attended school: Professor Binns and another one – one who was made when he was still at school.

"Myrtle?" he ventured, taking a tentative step towards the ghosts. He removed his Glamour, not that she would recognise him after all these years.

The ghostly plump girl peered at him through her thick glasses and then floated towards him.

"I should know you ... but you're so old," she said.

"Yes, it's been many years, Myrtle. I don't remember you being ... well, a ghost after you died."

"Oh, I wasn't at school," she simpered. "I haunted Olive Hornby. I followed her everywhere. But then I was exorcised from her presence and found myself back here." She simpered again.

Poor Myrtle, thought Alphard. He remembered her as a bright Ravenclaw, but terribly unpopular. If memory served, Riddle had started a whispering campaign against her because she was Muggle-born, and told all who would listen that her unattractive physical appearance was because of her 'dirty blood'. Idris had been furious, as his own mother was a Muggle-born witch. Between Riddle's whispering campaign and her own unfortunate propensity to succumb to tears for every slight, real or imagined, Riddle had found a perfect target.

And Olive had been his most willing accomplice. Yes, Alphard remembered now how Olive had trailed after the handsome prefect, fawning on his every word. He wondered what happened to her. Did she ever feel remorse for her hounding of a fellow pupil? He wondered whether she had followed Riddle further. Alphard said none of this aloud. Instead, he smiled at Myrtle, and she hesitantly smiled back.

"Do you like it here? Wouldn't you prefer to -"

"Move on?" Myrtle snorted in an unladylike manner. Then her bottom lip trembled. Alphard remembered that she was always crying in classes. "Sometimes, I think I would, but I never seem to be able to concentrate on moving on long enough before something upsets me ... you have to be prepared for the onward journey, you see."

"Yes, Myrtle. I see," said Alphard kindly.

"Shh," she said, raising a pudgy finger to her lips. "It's time."

As he had been speaking to Myrtle, the pupils and staff of the school had taken their places and now the Merpeople sang a lament for Dumbledore. Alphard thought it was such a sound to haunt his dreams and he took his own seat.

Alphard's head snapped back to see Hagrid bearing Dumbledore's body clad in purple cloth. Alphard quickly took his seat, and with the Whitby Werewolves, he sat attentively whilst the eulogy was paid and a white tomb was cast around Dumbledore's body. It had been touching.

Alphard's eyes were drawn to Rubeus, noisily crying at the back, seated next to a full giant in a suit. Alphard had to blink to ensure his eyes did not deceive him. He drew breath and almost went to speak to Rubeus – but the half-giant's grief seemed almost bigger than he was. Perhaps it was just as well that Alphard did not make himself known. Still, it was strange to see him, after all these years. He and Idris used to speak to him in the Dark Forest. Idris was as at home there as Rubeus – they often talked about the trees and the creatures, although they were not great friends. Rubeus had been blamed for the death of Myrtle. Sirius had since told him it was a basilisk unleashed by Riddle. Alphard should have known Riddle was behind such an evil. He knew Dumbledore had installed Rubeus as Keeper of the Keys and Grounds when Dumbledore became Headmaster. Dumbledore had a history of expressing his faith in those he trusted, but others did not. Surely, this was all the more reason to trust Snape with his adopted family's welfare.

Then, he caught a glimpse of Lupin next to a witch with pink hair. He looked haggard, as if the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders.

Should he make himself known? He saw Lupin talk to a badly disfigured red headed man – a man who had similar facial scars to Idris's. Then the party got up to depart. Alphard fell back and motioned to the Whitby Werewolves to stay silent when he saw they started forward to greet Lupin. Alphard only had to look at the man to see his grief was deep, and Alphard suspected it was not just for Dumbledore.

Perhaps, Alphard had been wrong to trust in Snape. He felt a chill settle in his bones as he and his guard walked behind the group before them.

"Tonks!" Alphard turned abruptly to see who had called his niece's husband. A man in Auror's robes strode up ... to the witch with pink hair!

This was his great niece? The newcomer spoke to her earnestly and he watched as her hair turned from pink to brown. In that instant, Alphard saw her resemblance to her mother. Then her hair turned jet black and her eyes darkened in concentration, and he saw her demented aunt. Alphard's breath caught in his throat.

As soon as the two had finished conversing, Alphard resolved. He had to meet her and make himself known to Lupin too.

"Remus!" he called. Lupin turned and, at first, he didn't see past Alphard's Glamour. Alphard walked to him and only when they were face to face did Alphard briefly remove his Glamour long enough for Lupin to recognise him and grasp his hand in both of his in desperate welcome.

"Alphard, I am so glad to see you," said Lupin, his voice strained.

One by one, the Whitby Werewolves shook hands with Lupin and he quickly explained to his companions that he had worked with them once before, but he kept Alphard's identity to himself. This limited explanation seemed satisfactory to his companions, clearly used to Lupin's peripatetic work with his activities with the werewolf packs.

His great niece moved forward then and looped her arm through Lupin's, although he did not appear comfortable with the gesture.

"Wotcher," she said. "Call me Tonks."

Alphard removed his Glamour fully and watched confusion cover her face at his familiar features.

"I most certainly will not. You are Nymphadora, and I was at your Christening. I am your great uncle, Alphard Black." He watched as she gaped like a fish (something her mother never would have done) and it made him smile. "However, I'll call you Dora, if that's preferable to Nymphadora – which it surely must be. Although – 'gift of the nymphs' – is that really so bad?"

Tonks's smile was slow to appear, but when it did, it was charming.

"Uncle Alphard, I had no idea you were still alive." Then she giggled, and her eyes sparkled pretty shades of violet. "Great Uncle Alphard!"

"Oh, no, I don't think I like that at all," laughed Alphard, as the Whitby Werewolves guffawed at his expense. Lupin only smiled, a weak smile that clearly cost him effort.

She giggled again, turning between Alphard and Lupin.

"Please, Uncle Alphard – will you and your friends come back with us – have lunch perhaps? I would so like to talk to you." She now looped her arm through Alphard's. "There's so much I want to know." She looked lovingly at Lupin then, much to Alphard's confusion. "And so much I'd like to tell you."

Alphard's eyes flicked questioningly to Lupin, but Lupin's eyes slid away as if he couldn't bear to meet Alphard's gaze.

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

His great niece's flat was mess, but they all piled in. It quickly became apparent to Conway that Tonks had little skill in the kitchen, and the Whitby Werewolves worked with Tonks to put together a lunch of sandwiches, fruit and tea, discussing the latest music as they worked under her cheerful instruction.

"Where is Severus?" asked Alphard quietly of Lupin who sat in the corner, seemingly distracted and miserable, nothing like the proactive man Alphard had met in the pack. Alphard kept his voice low so the young folk in the kitchen wouldn't hear him – he didn't like to cast a Privacy Charm in another's home, especially when he'd only just met his great niece for the first time in over twenty years.

"Severus? I don't know, Alf. I don't know where he is. I can't find him." His eyes were sad, and Alphard noticed his hands trembled slightly.

"You're not well, Remus."

Lupin shrugged as if it didn't matter.

"May I?" asked Alphard, raising his wand to cast over Lupin. Lupin made a desultory gesture of agreement and then dropped his head in his hands.

"Severus killed Albus."

Alphard's wand hung in the air, his incantation stopped on his lips.

"So it's true then?" Alphard said, tasting the bile of betrayal.

Lupin nodded slowly, as if the gesture caused him pain.

"Harry saw it happen. There's no doubt Severus cast the curse." Lupin's voice was thick with emotion, but then he sat forward suddenly, his eyes haunted and earnest. "But our Bond hasn't broken, Alf. Our Bond says he's true, but he left me and I cannot find him. Even our elf cannot tell me where he is!" Lupin had grasped his own upper arm, and Alphard remembered the bonding circlets he'd seen on the men when they had slept in his tent. Alphard's jaw clenched as he tried to understand: he knew the Bonds were deep earth magic and they could not be deceived. Snape must be true – but he had left Lupin heartbroken nonetheless. It made no sense.

Alphard began his diagnostic incantations again. Lupin was badly run down, but his naked eye told him that. His charms told him more was amiss than a broken heart.

"Look at me, Remus," said Alphard, and he shone his wand in Lupin's eyes and frowned as he cast again. Potions misuse – no doubt about it, and quite recently. There had been no trace of this back in January. Perhaps, Lupin was using Potions to self-medicate his undoubted depression. But there was more. The gentlest brush of Legilimency confirmed it: a poorly worked Memory Charm. Who had worked it? Snape, maybe?

"Remus, may I look into your thoughts ..." he ventured.

"No!" Lupin spat, and then looked startled and apologetic. "No, I'm sorry, Alf. I can't let you ... not that." Lupin rubbed at his temples distractedly.

"I'm sorry. Of course, I won't." Lupin's reaction confirmed it. Alphard had seen this many times in his career as a Healer. A poorly worked Memory Charm caused confusion in the victim, and defensiveness against further mental intrusion. Werewolves were known to be resistant to mind magic. Eventually, the Charm would break, but in the meantime, Alphard wondered what Lupin was being prevented from remembering.

"So!" Tonks said brightly, leading the Whitby Werewolves into the living room, carrying trays of food and drink between them. Lupin sat back in his chair, and smiled wanly at Tonks. "The guys have been telling me about the pack in Snowdon." She knelt between Lupin's legs and draped an arm over his leg.

Alphard sat, confused by what he was seeing. His great niece's affection for Lupin was clear for all to see, but Lupin didn't reciprocate. That was also clear.

"I mean, I'd heard some from Remus when he reported way back. Remus told me about Idris and you – you two who loved each other all these years."

Alphard nodded and smiled at her romanticism.

"What does Idris call you then?"

"Alf. He has always called me Alf," he replied, almost shyly.

"And you found each other after all these years?" she said happily, turning to smile at Lupin as this confirmed something.

"Yes. Through Dumbledore."

"And no-one ever matched up to him?"

"No-one. He was always mine, you see."

Tonks blinked fast.

"You are so like Sirius," she said, her smile faltering a little.

"I believe he was like me," Alphard said, with a teasing smile.

"You see?" Tonks turned to Lupin. "Sometimes, it's just fate."

Alphard didn't understand, but he could see Lupin was not comfortable. He looked questioningly at Tonks.

"Remus is always trying to put me off him – he says I could do better – have someone younger, less dangerous," she said flippantly. "He refuses to see that I don't care he's a werewolf – just like you don't care Idris is a werewolf and that he already had a mate, and ... and Mum doesn't care that Dad's Muggle-born."

"Being Muggle-born is hardly the same as being a werewolf, Dora. And you don't have to fall for someone because they're different," Lupin said, and Alphard heard the most desperate weariness in his tone, as if he were somehow a prisoner, and then Lupin gave Alphard a warning look and Alphard realised he was not to mention Snape.

"I don't! That's a terrible thing to say, Remus."

"David was a werewolf and now ..."

"This has nothing to do with David!" Tonks barked.

The room went silent with embarrassment, and Alphard remembered a young man called David – a young werewolf who Alphard had nearly hexed when he had mentioned Sirius – who had come to the Snowdon pack with the Whitby Werewolves in fact and of whom they had never heard again.

"It has everything to do with David," said Lupin, so quietly it was almost inaudible. Tonk's smile fell and her hair began to fade.

"You can't back out now. We agreed." With the contrary look of a petulant child, Tonks jutted out her chin and turned to Alphard. "It's only wedding jitters." She laughed nervously as she looked at each of her guests. "Remus and I are to be married, Uncle."

"Dora," Lupin said quietly. "Listen to me ..."

"Ah ... congratulations," Alphard said, but he stood quickly, realising he was intruding on something very private indeed, and he had been absent from his family too long to be part of this conversation. "But I think we should be going."

Tonks scrambled clumsily to her feet. "Don't go yet, Uncle Alphard." She pulled Alphard in to her kitchen as Lupin shepherded the Whitby Werewolves to the front door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's just ... these past few weeks have been very difficult, you know, since Dumbledore was murdered."

Alphard nodded. "I understand, but," he picked up Tonks's hands in his own and squeezed them, "I think you and Remus need to talk without an audience." He wanted to add, And you need to listen.

"How can I get in touch with you? I mean, it would be great if you could come to the wedding," Tonks said breathlessly. "Mum and Dad ... well, Mum really, she isn't keen on Remus. I mean – you know him. You know what a great guy he is but ..."

"- but he's a werewolf," Alphard finished. "I know. I saw your mother a while ago."

"Oh," Tonks said, crestfallen. "She didn't say she'd seen you. I mean – she didn't tell me."

"We had words. She told me her feelings about werewolves. Well, I didn't tell her that I'd found Idris. There seemed no point."

"But, you know, Uncle, don't you – how it feels to love a werewolf ..."

"... I know how it feels to love Idris," Alphard corrected.

"And you love him even though he already has a mate," Tonks affirmed, excitedly, ignoring Alphard's emphasis.

Alphard knew he had to tread warily. Something was so ... off: Lupin's confusion and Tonk's confidence.

"Why do you ask? Does Remus already have a mate? Is this why you ask?"

"He did," said Tonks. "But it's just us now. Remus and me. You'll see. We'll be happy."

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

"What then?" asked Angharad.

"Remus came back at that point, and Dora said nothing more other than she wanted to know how to contact me for a wedding invitation. I told her that Remus could find me with his Patronus." Alphard sighed heavily. "I asked Remus to walk us to the Apparition point. I tried to get him to talk to me about what's going on, but all he would say was that he'd lost his mate and it didn't matter. I couldn't get any more out of him."

"None of it sounds right, Alf," Angharad said. "How could your niece say Remus Lupin doesn't have a mate any more? And why would Remus Lupin say he'd lost Seth Moore? It doesn't make sense."

"You don't lose a mate, Alf," muttered Idris. "Only death parts us."
- 15
- 16
- 17
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Old Friend